Sexuality 

Sitting, surrounded by people, and none know a single thing that’s going on. The opposite sex accidentally reveals their struggle blatantly, but yours remains hidden. It’s random, unexpected, but also pleasant. You’re not supposed to feel these sensations while in public. It’s a private matter. You tell yourself to stop. To think about neutral topics. Despite it all, your body rages on. Coerced by nothing, stimulated by the unexpected. It’s just happening. As hard as you try to stop it, to repress it, it continues on. 

The second you can, you run to a private space. You question why you’d allow yourself to feel such innapropriate sensations in public. ‘It didn’t harm anyone.’ ‘Yeah, but it’s also deviant behavior.’ 

There’s a knock at the door. You answer, and in he walks. That innocent little striped dress is now slipped off of your body by his big hands, with your assistance. Next thing you know, there you lay, directly undrrneath him, both of you with minimal fabric to cover your bodies and shield your eyes from lustful glances. His gaze is begging to look at your body in its one true state. Unclothed, unaltered, the imperfections revealed. You look into his eyes and desire the same of him. To have him reveal his body, for you to watch as he unveils what your body is begging to see. Both of you take turns indulging in how every part of one another’s bodies feel under the touch of your hands, how wonderful it is to run your mouth along the most delicate, sensitive areas, and place a kiss, or deliver a tantalizingly gentle bite. Your lips meet, and your tongues begin to explore and intermingle, like two long lost lovers discovering one another once again. He flips you two over, and now you’re on top. You’re nearly naked form on display. The first article of clothing… Then the next… Suddenly you’ve found yourself completely stripped of everything. His eyes take in every inch of your body, arousing all of his senses. It’s his turn next, and he happily obliges. Soon, the two of you have now found yourselves ultimately revealed. There’s nothing left to cover, everything’s exposed. You indulge in your desires. Your bodies mold as one, as he moves in you. You engage in the most sensual, lustful, forbidden, sinful, dirty act known to man, and you love every second of it. 

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Love

You find yourself more in love than you ever thought possible. There she lays, in your arms, perfect in every way. Every fiber of your being reacts in an instant to the reception of this precious little gift. She is your baby girl. You immediately acknowledge how fragile this little human is. In that moment, you vow to yourself right then and there, that you will do all you can to ensure that she is treated with the utmost care. She is a reflection of the love shared the night she was created. She is the product of the 9 months of cautious nurture and care of the beautiful womb that carried her. You felt this gorgeous baby’s kicks at night as your wife lay fast asleep. You anticipated her arrival, picturing how this new presence would change your entire world. What would this little bundle of joy look like? Smell like? Sound like? Interact like? Would she have you smile? Your eyes? Would you see a glimpse of yourself in her as her eyes sparkled with glee each time she saw your face reappear in a simple game of peek-a-boo? Many questions flooded your mind at night. Now everything has stilled, and the only question you have is right in front of you: “how will you let this precious child know everyday, without a doubt in her mind, that her daddy loves her?”

Days, weeks, months, years go by, and you see her grow up. She is everything you could have wished for and more. It’s not exactly what she’s done, or said, but in a way, it’s all of that. It’s the perfect imperfection of this little girl, the glimpses of you and your wife in this unique individual. Her smile radiates through the room. She has your blue eyes, she has your wife’s chestnut hair. When she wants something, she imitates your old puppy dog eyes that you used to use on your own parents– sometimes even on your wife as well (in a joking manner). She has an infectious giggle that brings a smile to your face every time you hear it.

One day she comes home from high school, and she tells you she met a boy. The smile on her face gives you the impression that this boy isn’t all that bad for her. You give her a light-hearted mock interrogation anyway, and ask her “does he make you happy?” “does he treat you right?” “is there really a guy out there perfect enough for my little girl?” Then you mention one last thing: “make sure that if he ever treats you any less than you deserve, you walk away, because you’re the most precious gift anyone ever could receive and he sure as hell better know that.” That night, thoughts race through your mind. You remember her first words, the tears you kissed away when she fell down and scraped her knee for the first time, the pride you had when she finally learned how to ride a bike without training wheels, the times you’d come in the kitchen and find her and your wife baking cookies, her first day of school. It all felt like it was just yesterday. Now she’s going on her first date. Your little girl has acknowledged the opposite sex in a new way. She no longer sees these boys as friends anymore. There is the potential that one of these days, she may even kiss one of these boys. That thought is tough to handle. This is your baby, the one you held in your arms. You face the fact that your little girl is now a sexual being, but with that comes primal intentions. How do you know this young boy will treat your daughter right, when all of his urges arise from such an primal place. Will he be able to control himself? On the other hand… will your little girl want him to control himself? A first kiss is enough to think about, but then there is so much more that could follow. Your sweet little baby’s body is seen as a sexual object now. Guys want to touch her and she wants to touch them too. Your darling’s sweet little hands and mouth may go places that would make you cringe. Picturing these things makes you sick. She’s your baby. The little girl that is only meant to be held by your loving, fatherly hands. It was only days ago that she was too small, to young, to walk on her own. So you held her in your arms for hours, staring at that spectacular little face. Your love for her was unconditional from the start, and will remain so until the end. You think of how the guys she will encounter won’t see her in the same light you have. Their love for her, if even love, won’t be unconditional for sure. Some will expect things of her. Some things you don’t even want to think about. The thoughts are put on pause, because you realize you’ll go crazy if you continue to let them ruminate.

So more days, weeks, months, years go by. Your little girl is officially a sexual being now (not that she wasn’t in the first place). There are many things that have happened that she hasn’t told you. She’s had her first kiss, she has experienced much more than that…, and she has gone through heartbreak. Guys have treated her with disrespect– she walked away just like you told her to— though sometimes she didn’t acknowledge it soon enough. The first boy to see your little angel’s unclothed, uncovered, innocent, bare body, trivialized it by jerking off to porn the following night. That boy that gave her her first kiss also gave her her first heartbreak when he cheated on her with a sexy cheerleader while he was intoxicated at a high school party. She dated the nice guys, the good guys, the losers, the jerks, the jocks. She also found the love of her life along the way, who treats her well, loves her in every way possible, and brings out the best in her every day. He’s the boy she’s bringing to thanksgiving when she comes home during the break. Little do you know, he’s the one. He encapsulates everything you could have ever wished for in a man that would hold your daughters heart.

Now don’t feel too relieved, there was another who almost won her heart before she fell for your new potential son-in-law. With this other man, things appeared to be perfectly fine. He was successful and had a fairly good income. He knew that this beautiful girl was too good for him. Yet when a problem would arise, he would blame her, he’d go into denial and would never apologize for his actions. Sometimes he would apologize— but only when it benefited him. If they would have married, he would have barked the words “get out of MY house” when he was frustrated. He would say things to tear her down, not build her up. Any accomplishment of hers would be overlooked. When enraged, he’d bring fear into your little girl’s heart. She would run to the closest room and lock herself inside until he had calmed down. He’s the one who would have stormed out of the house at  2 am in the morning, slamming the door behind him, screeching the car tires as he peeled out of the drive way. He would have been the one to bring doubt, fear, and sadness to your little girl’s heart those nights, making her ask why she deserved this treatment.

No one “deserves” to be treated that way. In this alternate ending, your little girl just found herself in a bad situation. Could you have imagined though, the heartache you would have felt for your little girl if it had gone that way? Wouldn’t you have wanted to walk straight up to that evil man and look him right in the eye and tell him off? Tell him he doesn’t deserve someone as amazing and precious as your little girl?

What if I told you there is a simple way to make sure that this never happens to your daughter/ future daughter? No one would ever break the heart of your bundle of joy, and it involves only one simple task: Treat everyone else’s baby girls with care. That woman you slept with tonight, that girl you’ve been planning to bang, the girl you cheated on when you were younger, the girl you only intend to sleep with. All of them are someone’s baby girl. Treat them as so. If not, how would you ever expect someone else to treat your’s with the utmost care?

A letter for my thoughts

I’d like to begin by letting you all know that the posts I’ve written thus far have been about many people, some platonic, some romantic. Sometimes it’s fictitious, or at least I attempt to convince myself that. Though I’m a one-guy girl when I get into relationships, I may write about many guys (not always because of a romantic interest in them). I write about the people I’m thinking about, or who’s presence in my thoughts is influencing my emotions, in a good or bad way. I never mention names, and though there is a name in mind, I’m writing about whatever it is, for myself, not for any of the people to ever read it. So, I’ll let you all know now, it’s not solely dedicated to writing letters to anyone in particular. But back to what I was saying–Whether they’re good or bad feelings, I’m going to write them on a page to release and experience them. Though there are some times when I write about an ideal or the polar opposite, and though it could apply to a guy I know, I may not have made that connection with my thoughts yet.¬†So when attempting to decipher who the letter posts I write are to, your guess is as good as mine.
….when I stare across a room into your eyes, I feel at home. It provides me comfort, as well as serving to intrigue me. You have a soft biting sparkle to your eyes. Conversing with you feels as though each response is a challenge, which is a very addictive quality; who would back down from a challenge?

Sometimes when our hearts are yearning, we remember/ desire the things that stimulate our senses, or remind us of a mutual passion shared between us and a lover. For me, it’s your soft curls. Grasping onto them, while you gaze into my eyes with desire. It feels as though we’ve found our own world in this moment. I crave your lips on mine. One look can lead my mind to believe something so pleasurable is forbidden. Well that just serves to make it even more enticing…

When I picture arousal, it doesn’t remain within a particular constraint. The standard for intensity has been raised. Many may think of my desires as twisted, I look at them as a form of release and a higher feeling.

Normally, a bland, superficial, vacuous setting, no matter how sexually charged, bores me (so basically, dinner and a movie, a party, or any setting that would lead me to see that you lack that one quality I’m looking for). You could be the hottest guy in the world, and I may end up feeling as though I could derive more pleasure from eating an apple (the fruit, just the fruit. Don’t get any ideas. It’s simply a word to infer that the pleasure is mundane).

All encompassing, passionate, dominant, loving, caring, lustful, compassionate, and uniquely yourself. That’s what captures my interest. If you poses these qualities, you are a sexy human being, and you should definitely continue doing things how you are, because it’s magnetic. You’re captivating. Well that is, at least to me.
You see, I write some of these things in present tense, because in my memory, that’s what it feels like. I know the difference between the past and the present, but for the purposes of this entry, it will remain present.
Part 2-
The other day I was asked why I listen to sad music. I understand the trend is to listen to upbeat, uplifting music, produced by a singer who appears to lead the perfect, most glamorous life. That simply doesn’t appeal to me. I can see why people don’t want to listen to my current obsession’s music.

Let me clarify one thing before I go on: no music is the best music. Yes, the musician that just came to your mind that you were prepared to vehemently defend as the best is good to you, but is it good to everyone? Although maybe that’s not how you classify/assess the level of perfection a musician is at.

Is it content (the story of the song). Does this mean it all has to be philosophical, progressive messages, uplifting lyrics? Or can it be about heartbreak and the simple things we all go through in life, that seem to affect us the most, possibly even more than all of the higher thinking?

Or is it the use of different affects, beats, and overall composition of the music that comprises the overall sound?

Is it the level of vocal skills that a musician demonstrates that determines the skill? Or is it also mixed with the passion and emotion they are able to convey when they sing their song?

If you say all of these things comprise a good song, then I agree. If you simply state that it’s all about a formula that it takes to set up a song’s beat, tied in with a very talented voice, you’ve just stripped music of its entire meaning.

Personally I would like to believe that music should be rated on how deeply it evokes a reaction within us, when we hear it. This tends to lend itself to no universally perfect music. Like I mentioned in “what does music mean to you?” how no one has the same definition of perfection, but to someone you’re perfect, and the same applies to music. Most songs don’t affect every single individual that listens to them, the same way.

With that definition being laid out there, I’m going to continue. Yet again, I’m listening to Abel Tesfaye (the weeknd). Right now my mind craves this music. It appeals to all of my senses, and I feel that I can resonate with his music.

Maybe he’s not the best. However, I don’t care. Honestly, I would like to request you all do a full evaluation of all of his songs, not just the mainstream ones that give him a bad rep, before we talk further on his skill level.
Yes, the claws are coming out because I’m in my Abel bubble at the moment. I have his music blasting with the windows down, feeling the beautiful wind breeze past me (someone else is driving the car I’m in).

With that being said, the claws aren’t really out, but I will continue with my current addiction, because it’s what I need/ want right now.