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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Sad Music

Recently I’ve been thinking about the differences in the music we all listen to. For some, folk music is their preference. For others, heavy metal. Some like a mixture of things, but generally there is a primary fixation on one genre. Maybe the fixation waivers and switches to an entirely new genre all together, but for the time being, they are enamored with the genre, or particular artist. I think the common theme is that no matter who you are out of these people, or what music appeals to you, we all have one common motivation that draws us to our preferred genre. We listen to and seek the things that we identify with, but also the things that make us feel empowered. Now for those of you glancing at the screen with skepticism, I’ll explain what I mean by empowered exactly. You may think that it is surely not possible that everyone’s choice of genre could truly provide empowerment. Such as for the women who listen to sexually degrading rap and enjoy dancing/ singing along to it. Even if there seems to be an underlying conflict between the content and the audience, I still believe it can provide the empowerment that I am referring to. It isn’t the topic of the songs that is important in this instance. It is the melody, the beat, the way the voice in the song sounds, the emotions it evokes from the listener. Though, it may also relate to the topic in particular instances. Such as when that sexually degrading music is being produced by someone who has their own set of difficulties. No, I’m not saying that any misogynist should be let off the hook if they are going through a small difficultly. I’m talking about an underlying emotional turmoil of the artist. Say for instance that artist fell in love. They fell in love so deeply, and found someone that makes their life complete, there is no one else out there more perfect for them than that person. Then the artist makes a choice, or perhaps a mistake, and they are torn away from their love. Either way, or whether or not that was what led them to where they are now, they find themselves so famous, that they don’t know who talks to them for them or for their fame. There is also that factor that they’re constantly put on this pedestal by all of these people they meet. Given these circumstances, they can’t connect with anyone. No one cares to know the true them. All these people assume they already know everything they need to know about the artist as a person. They’ve listened to every word they’ve ever sung, read up on their wiki page, and saw a few interviews online, so they’re an expert on them, they know everything there is to this person. So when they meet them, there is only this bland, mundane, obsessive admiration. All of this is thrown at a person who has no clue as to a single detail of the admirer’s life. The artist may appreciate their fans very much, but I highly doubt they’d ever say they enjoy the one-sidedness of it all. Considering all that must be going through their head, mixed with regular sexual urges, you may come to the conclusion that there is a bit of disconnect. It’s no longer the sex that everyone has come to know as the norm in music— It’s not making love, It’s purely physical for this person. Mostly because those surrounding them regard them in the same light. Neither seeks to discover more about the other. So the lyrics come about from these encounters. The things they sing sound detached, because they are. They are no longer regarded as simply another soul. They live in a bubble of solitude, away from everyone else. It’s not because they started out with this detached view towards women initially, it is because they are describing all it is to them anymore. It is only the acts, only the body parts involved, only the pleasure, that they can see. My point is that even underlying lyrics that come across crude or disrespectful, there lies a back story that with the comprehension of, one could come to find themselves enjoying the music of this person. Such could also be said for music containing just about anything initially offensive. So, with all of these things, no matter what genre it is, it could happen to be the genre that leaves you feeling your most empowered.

Music can also provide catharsis that leaves us with the impression of empowerment. If you haven’t experienced or felt a sense of catharsis by listening to music, then I suggest you go searching for the music that will enable you to feel it, because it is invigorating. You feel and sense every detail of the song, every nuances with your entire body. You feel as though happiness and bliss is flooding through you. You are entranced by it, and find yourself becoming at peace. After the release, your mind is at rest, and the things that generally weigh on your mind have been lifted for the meantime.

The point of all of this random babbling is that I have come to acknowledge that the music that provides me with this feeling isn’t always everyone else’s cup of tea. Some think it is sad, overly sexual, and depressing. Well they are correct, it is all of those things and more, and I love it for each one of its components. For some reason, the music that brings me the amazing feelings I just described is the kind that possesses a sullen, dark, and sexual tone. The songs I like seem to resonate within me because they are a reflection of my energy. The more I listen to it, the more energized I begin to feel, and it feels as though I’m replenishing the energy that courses throughout my body. For me, the sadness doesn’t bring me down, it makes me feel alive. I like to hear theses kinds of songs, because you can feel the emotion. It reminds me of what it’s like to be human, where sadness is a reality. Sure, happiness is as well, but that can be faked easily. No one enjoys feigning sadness in the same manner, and even if they do fake it, there still lies a genuine ounce of hurt in their voice. I guess what it is that I love about sad songs is the potency of them.

Some words

Sometimes life happens and you feel yourself get swept away in the tide of everyday activities and interactions. You see the crash and fall of the waves, but sometimes you don’t feel them like you naturally would. Something’s on your mind. Your thoughts can’t help but wander. Where do they wander? Is it to thoughts of a significant other? A new romantic interest? Is it that old flame that still burns and singes your soul? Is it wandering to thoughts of finding that thing called love that everyone talks so fondly about? They wander everywhere. Currently stuck on the beautiful idea of a twin flame. “What is a twin flame?” It is a concept that can give you hope or break you down entirely. To those who haven’t found a remarkable spark with anyone, the idea that a greater connection and love brings happiness to them—also alluding to the fact that they haven’t lost their shot yet. Some have love and lost— sometimes they just so happen to lose their twin flame. How would they lose it if it is an even stronger bond/ connection/ passion than a soulmate, you ask? Well you never truly lose it— it becomes unavailable, unattainable, too difficult to hold onto. Not every lost twin flame is gone forever, but sometimes it appears that way. It all comes down to the two individuals who share that connection. Are you stubborn? Are you foolish enough to let your twin flame walk even farther out of your life while you’re settling for a lesser passion? Are you scared? Are you too blind to see that you’re losing them day by day? Are you too heartbroken to give it another shot? If so, you might just lose them. It is a little difficult to continue to try when the odds are against you. History is made, and sometimes bridges are burned. Sometimes those pained goodbyes are final. It’s not because neither of you feel anything for each other anymore— you might feel everything, but you’ll never tell…

The other day I watched a movie that portrayed this kind of connection. They broke up because it was necessary, not because the love had faded. It never faded, even after 20 years of being apart. They still thought of one another after all of that time had passed. When they saw each other after all of those years, the connection, the passion, the yearning for one another still remained. It’s not the conversations they had, or the things that they shared in common, or the things they knew about one another. It was the need to be next to one another, with no clear reason. It is the desire to see and talk to that soul, because it is the only one yours finds effortless comfort with. They craved each other’s bodies– not because their bodies were perfectly toned and proportioned, but because that body belonged to the soul they couldn’t bare to live without.

Of course the movie didn’t end well…. I just so happened to conveniently remember towards the end, that the writer of the story is notorious for creating sad movies involving deaths to induce tears and despair in the viewer.

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?

Nipple play (aka some weird thoughts…)

By the title you probably instantly pictured boobs. Well for the moment, it’s about pecs. That’s right, male nipples. To be exact: male nipple piercings.They’ve fascinated me for a while, but I never figured out why until just now. For men to have any stimulation to their nipples, whether pleasurable or painful, is kind of taboo. Jewelry in the first place, has mainly been for women. And things such as tongue rings, nipple rings, and belly button rings have been viewed as erotic on women. Now I’m not sure of their purposes all too well, so I’m only guessing on this aspect. As far as tongue rings go, if you don’t instantly picture it involved in using your tongue for something such as I don’t know… A blow job… You’ve probably been living in a cave. Now that I think about it, it could also be useful for trailing a tongue along some nice six pack abs (that is if the metal is cold, cause then it could evoke quite a reaction). Also, maybe it would provide a little extra excitement when kissing. As far as nipple piercings go, I’d guess it’s for the aesthetics, and possibly the sensation received by the giver of nipple play (involving mouth and tongue, possibly a little nibbling). Now for the belly button ring- it’s mainly aesthetics with this one, but could also have the same results as the nipple piercings.

Initially thinking of all of these piercings, I would never imagine a guy would ever desire to have any of them. So far in my life, I’ve never seen a belly button ring on a guy. However, I’ve seen the other two piercings on guys.

There was this one homosexual male, who had a tongue ring- it made a lot of sense. I saw a guy on the beach one time with nipple piercings for the first time, a few years ago. Just recently I saw that perplexing piercing (nipple piercing) on another guy.

Now in general, nipple piercings could be broken down as a symbol of how much pain you can endure, so in a way, that aspect could be viewed as masculine. Then there is the other aspect… It’s on your nipples, the one place all of you guys tend to shy away from, when your girl is pleasuring you. Although, I did watch this one show, that showed a guy getting some nipple play, from a girl, and he seemed to enjoy receiving it (just so you know, this guy didn’t happen to have nipple piercings). My only question really is: do these random buff, macho guys that I see with nipple piercings, also enjoy the nipple play? I mean what is the function for nipple piercings otherwise? I think it may serve as a window to male sexuality, that’s displayed in plain sight. Not necessarily that they are gay, but rather, that they indulge in a kink not explored by many other men.

I don’t necessarily think that if a guy doesn’t get nipple piercings, or is too uncomfortable receiving pleasure there, that he’s wrong in any way for deciding to be that way. On the other hand though, I think these guys who enjoy getting those piercings and feeling the sensations as the receiving end, have discovered a wonderful thing for themselves. As a girl, I know it’s a pleasurable sensation, so I would feel bad if a guy simply refused to receive it because he thought it was a girl thing- all people can find pleasure within this wonderful thing we call nipple play.

Misunderstood

At the moment I’m listening to music in my favorite setting- head phones in, music blasting, laying on my bed, typing this post on my phone. Recently I’ve found myself intrigued by the music of Abel Tesfaye. For those of you don’t know, he is the singer who goes by the name “the weeknd.” The first song I heard of his actually rubbed me the wrong way, but a few weeks ago, I heard another song of his that I liked a lot, and I decided to further investigate his music. Now his style is just the same in all of his songs as the first song I heard by him, but my outlook has changed. The messages in his songs are a little derogatory and misogynistic at first glance. Though I believe there is an underlying tone to his songs that hold some validity to them– then again, maybe I’m simply trying to find a reason to justify why they appeal to me. Though I don’t appreciate how he sings about sleeping around, and with multiple people at a time, I feel that his motives aren’t simply black or white. As many musicians probably experience, he’s faced with the prospect of encountering women who put him on a pedestal, or chase him for the status or money that comes along with him. In this situation, most could probably see how it would be difficult to truly connect with people, because it’s not very often that he’ll encounter someone who sees him for who he truly is- Abel tesfaye, the guy who skipped town one weekend, never looking back. He wasn’t raised in a perfect family- he earned his fame by being uniquely him, it wasn’t handed down to him, he wasn’t simply the son of people who had connections in the industry. He’s a complex character, and quite secretive on top of that. Though, he exposes little parts of himself, his personality, and his nature, in every single song. He doesn’t produce songs for the entire world to approve of. He creates them to express what he’s gone through, and what he’s going through. 

But back to how he alludes to sleeping around with many women at a time. For all we know, he could be hung up on one girl, and since her, he’s been unable to connect with anyone in the same way. Maybe no one takes the time to truly get to know what comprises Abel tesfaye. I don’t know about you, but that would lead me to just sleep around for the rest of my life if I didn’t believe anyone cared to know who I was, or could even begin to compare to the love and connection I once felt for someone else. 

I will say one thing though- even though his music is overtly sexual, and conveys an appeal of the forbidden, I actually enjoy that aspect of it. Like in his song “where you belong.” In this song, he basically tells this girl, it doesn’t matter who she’s with when he’s gone, because when he’s back in town, she belongs to him. There is a possessive tone the entire song that screams that she is all his. In general I would say that a loose grip on the one you love is the best approach (like how you wouldn’t want to grip to tightly on a handful of sand), but he approaches this differently. It’s not out of insecurity that he grips on tight. It’s more in a passionate, ownership, lustful kind of way. And though in some instances, ownership isn’t necessarily a positive thing to everyone, because autonomy and all of that, it’s in a different way. He doesn’t “own her” own her. It’s kind of like in the werewolf books. How they all have the one person that is their soulmate that they were destined for, and they say “mine” while gripping on tightly to their love. It’s ownership from a place of passion, not aggression or control. 

I would say that “the weeknd” is an acquired taste for sure. He is dominant, overtly sexual, and uniquely himself, not bending for the approval of the masses. 

The only complaint I would have is that he doesn’t do many interviews. Though that kind of adds an appeal to his whole persona. It challenges people to get to know who he is through his music, and not simply through random words he said in response to an interview question designed to trigger a controversial, or tabloid worthy answer. 

Yoga pants 

Yoga pants. Yes those evil speakers of truth… I’m going to talk about them. Some love them, but some hate them. I personally couldn’t live a life without them. They’re simple, comfortable, and truthful. What I enjoy about them is that they don’t enhance or degrade your lower half, they just show it for what it is. If you’re thin, thick, or somewhere in between, yoga pants conform to your shape and display it for the world. Given that rape is kinda prevalent these days, mothers, fathers, and other authorities who disapprove of yoga pant’s innate sexual appearance, and will insist that they only disapprove because what you’re wearing causes you to be more susceptible to getting raped. Who knew that when girls finally tried to establish higher self esteem than past generations, it would be made out to be a negative, rather than a positive thing. Yoga pants cover your lower body fully with fabric, yet they also show your shape, and that’s controversial. Old men stare inappropriately at young girls in yoga pants, and it alarms parents as they take notice of the nature of this attention. Yet instead of having the “responsible, mature adults” change their ways, and instruct them to not inappropriately ogle a young girl’s body, our society shames the girls. Being comfortable in your clothing is a crime, because you are displaying it for exactly how it is. Though moms would love to claim they adopt the belief that what you wear doesn’t get you raped, they continually perpetuate that kind of thinking. Follow me on a quick tangent if you will… your jeans have pockets. Does that mean you deserve to have your valuables stolen straight off of you? It surely doesn’t, we don’t condone theft. A bank doesn’t put itself on display to be robbed on purpose, and we don’t blame the bank for mentioning that it is a bank on the sign. It is stating what it is for those who intend to use it properly, not those who want to steal from it. 
Yoga pants aren’t for men, they’re for our comfort. I can move much better in yoga pants. They don’t rip when my flexibility exceeds the fabric’s flexibility, because the fabric is even more flexible than I am. Jeans on the other hand… I could accidentally rip my jeans and be left much less covered than I would have been if I had just worn the yoga pants. Luckily I have never had my jeans rip in public, but I have at home, and the rips are in the most inconvenient areas. My yoga pants have never ripped like that.
But back to body image. I’m not sure if it’s just the women I’m around, but I’ve met many young and old women who are insecure about their bodies. I’m not sure about you, but I’d rather be surrounded by a society who wears yoga pants and loves their body, opposed to a society that displays their insecurity in their body with oversized clothing they wear to cover it. 
Let’s go on another tangent though… Why are we even wearing clothes? We surely weren’t born this way, because we have the ability to constantly change outfits. s
So obviously our naked body underneath is the only thing that remains permanent, but how did this clothing fad come about? I know clothing is a social construct, but I’m curious to know the history of how clothes came about in society. The only reason I mention this is because clothing all together is unnatural. Wearing yoga pants conforms to society’s urge to cover up, so that raises the question as to why the controversy exists in the first place. 
Aside from all of that though, no matter what you wear, thick or thin fabric, loose or tight, short or long, print or no print, no one is usually focusing on that. To an extent we do, but that is the initial thing we see before we begin to actually look at an individual. Our minds unconsciously try to figure out what shape or figure lies beneath the fabric. We use the exposed body parts as indicators for what kind of shape may exist beneath it all. Toned arms, thin arms, etc. those all help us get a grasp for someone’s musculature. Even then, we stare at the clothing, attempting to discern a silhouette beneath.  
So even while you’re fully clothed, a stranger will unconsciously undress you, because it’s simply human nature to do so.