i've gone and dipped my toes in another fiasco, and i'm putting on a brave face before i embark on it, but it's been embarked. x says i have sexuality hang ups, which is not an uncommon opinion. none of my sexual partners would agree, though. strangers would definitely disagree. but people you know for a long period of time, take the effort to analyze you, to try to understand you, to frame you. so i have sexual hang ups they say.
you look so vulnerable before you're about to come. is that sentimental? i don't think so. every man who's ever seen my naked, has gone completely dumb in the face, post-shirt-off. this isn't braggadocio this is awe at the power of the female body. and when i say dumb, i really do mean dumb. it's almost unattractive. well, i find stupidity generally unattractive. so before you come, you look so vulnerable and far gone, and once it's over, you instantly revert back to your straight, cold, angel-broody face. which is why i was probably attracted to you, in the first place.
men.
AND.
women.
are horrifically insecure. so when you try to tell someone that what they're doing is "not nice" and they start yelling at you, it is because no one wants to admit to being capable of being "not nice." which is stupid, because everyone is capable of being not nice. i have "criticized" men before, and they have emotionally. shut. down. harder, than i ever have post-intense heartbreak. and they get pissy, and the make you feel really bad for criticizing them, and say things like, "why are you so critical and mean?" at which point you feel horrible and vulnerable, and basically ready to plead for them back. because you too, are insecure. one jab, leads to a defensive jab, which results in a series of defensive jabs.
and that, friends, is relationships.
i've never been in one.
etched in my brain is the conversation i had with a, regarding sexuality. "vanilla sex" was the term he implied, and for him to suggest that most if not all had vanilla sex?? what a concept! "you know... some people, are like... starfish..." i stare blankly. i stared blankly, with a coffee stain, on my newly purchased white-top. i stared blankly with my tussled hair, and dark eyes, and grumbling stomach. how, am i, not a member of the vanilla sex category? how much horrible sex must the majority of the world be having, for me to be considered "freaky" (his words, at that).
i gave a boy a lap dance once. it seemed like a fun idea. to which he responded, "do you do this often? you're... really good at it."
also, a certain song came on, and does no one else make life soundtracks the way i do? maybe it is telling of my perspective - that i foresee events in a such a way, that i can predetermine what songs to soundtrack them by. i don't know if i'll ever get married, but i have a wedding ost. i've had one since i saw my first rom com (and no, i do not remember what that was...) among my wedding ost, i have my funeral ost (i should really work on that one in case of anything...), and a sex ost. these osts exist in my brain, wherein i bookmark certain things for later. later, at my wedding. later, during sex. later.
yeah, so the song that came on that inspired the lap dance was on my sex ost.
do you, really, still not know what i'm talking about?
sigh.
you look so vulnerable before you're about to come. is that sentimental? i don't think so. every man who's ever seen my naked, has gone completely dumb in the face, post-shirt-off. this isn't braggadocio this is awe at the power of the female body. and when i say dumb, i really do mean dumb. it's almost unattractive. well, i find stupidity generally unattractive. so before you come, you look so vulnerable and far gone, and once it's over, you instantly revert back to your straight, cold, angel-broody face. which is why i was probably attracted to you, in the first place.
men.
AND.
women.
are horrifically insecure. so when you try to tell someone that what they're doing is "not nice" and they start yelling at you, it is because no one wants to admit to being capable of being "not nice." which is stupid, because everyone is capable of being not nice. i have "criticized" men before, and they have emotionally. shut. down. harder, than i ever have post-intense heartbreak. and they get pissy, and the make you feel really bad for criticizing them, and say things like, "why are you so critical and mean?" at which point you feel horrible and vulnerable, and basically ready to plead for them back. because you too, are insecure. one jab, leads to a defensive jab, which results in a series of defensive jabs.
and that, friends, is relationships.
i've never been in one.
etched in my brain is the conversation i had with a, regarding sexuality. "vanilla sex" was the term he implied, and for him to suggest that most if not all had vanilla sex?? what a concept! "you know... some people, are like... starfish..." i stare blankly. i stared blankly, with a coffee stain, on my newly purchased white-top. i stared blankly with my tussled hair, and dark eyes, and grumbling stomach. how, am i, not a member of the vanilla sex category? how much horrible sex must the majority of the world be having, for me to be considered "freaky" (his words, at that).
i gave a boy a lap dance once. it seemed like a fun idea. to which he responded, "do you do this often? you're... really good at it."
also, a certain song came on, and does no one else make life soundtracks the way i do? maybe it is telling of my perspective - that i foresee events in a such a way, that i can predetermine what songs to soundtrack them by. i don't know if i'll ever get married, but i have a wedding ost. i've had one since i saw my first rom com (and no, i do not remember what that was...) among my wedding ost, i have my funeral ost (i should really work on that one in case of anything...), and a sex ost. these osts exist in my brain, wherein i bookmark certain things for later. later, at my wedding. later, during sex. later.
yeah, so the song that came on that inspired the lap dance was on my sex ost.
do you, really, still not know what i'm talking about?
sigh.
No comments:
Post a Comment