I was thinking about nothing but having sex with her, getting inside of her. I was thinking about making her cum with my mouth, lips, tongue, hands, fingers and cock. Just writing about it makes my cock hard and drip precum. The world fades to black when I’m with her,
Once we were inside, we proceeded to our bed.
She turned out the lights, her beautiful body was silhouetted by a somewhat distant light. W is gorgeous; her body justly so. At some point I will get her to keep the lights on while we fuck.
We kissed, long and hard. Passionately.
Our burdensome clothes came off quickly, hitting the floor.
We made it to the bed in a nanosecond.
Still kissing, I began to caress her beautiful body. My hand found its way to her dripping slit. I proceeded to finger her, finding her clit. I made her cum—probably three times.
I feel powerful when I make her cum. She comes quickly, more quickly than any woman I’ve ever been with. Understand though, that each time she cums, it’s a victory. A victory for my mind, for my psyche, for my cock.
Earlier in the week, we had chatted about 69ing. For some reason, when I was a teenager, I thought that was the ultimate sexual position, fully understanding that there was no actual penetration.
I told her “Let’s 69”.
She turned around and spread her beautiful, muscular legs. I began to lick her tasty pussy with reckless abandon. She proceeded to put my cock in her mouth and lick and suck with delight.
It wasn’t long before my lips and tongue began to bring her to orgasm; she came HARD.
I didn’t stop. I kept licking and sucking. She tastes amazing—wet and sweet. She keeps a tuft of hair on her mons pubis, but shaves her lips, making me want to lick and suck them even more.
The most amazing part was that she kept sucking my cock while she was cumming. To my male readers, I need to put a picture in your mind—while you are making your woman cum, she still has your cock in her mouth. When she cums, she cums with it in her mouth. Her moans are muffled because she’s still trying to make you cum.
But I didn’t. Cum, that is.
I kept licking and sucking on her pussy. I opened my mouth wide and tried to put my tongue in as far as I could into her pussy. I moved my head back and forth, and used my nose, too. Still, she dutifully sucked my cock. Still, she moaned. Still, I didn’t cum.
It wasn’t because of her technique—she sucks cock better than everyone and anyone I’ve ever been with. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to cum—because I did want to cum. I think that I just wanted to cum the old-fashioned way.
So I kept making her cum. If I could have, I would have plunged my entire head into her pussy just to make her cum, to feel her pussy walls clench around my head as her entire body shook.
I think I made her cum another two times.
Did I mention that she was begging me to fuck her? I think I forgot that important point.
She was.
“I just want you inside of me,” she said multiple times while I had my face buried between her legs.
I refused, enjoying the taste of her pussy and the sensations I was giving her.
A short while later, she begged again.
“Please fuck me. I want you to fuck me, I want your cock inside of my pussy,” she begged, breathing heavily.
What’s a fella to do when a gorgeous woman is begging for your cock?
I acquiesced.
I was laying on my back on the bed, looking up at her.
She mounted me, rubbing her pussy on my cock.
I told her that she could ride me, and she did.
She guided the head of my cock into her dripping pussy, a combination of her juices and my saliva. Dripping wasn’t the word for it. More like Niagra falls.
“Use me,” I half-whispered, even though the noise we made was immaterial, given our surroundings. “Ride me. Fuck me, let me be your fuck toy. Get yourself off on my cock.”
I’ve never talked to another woman like this before. I may have thought these things, but I’ve never actually said them out loud.
I want to be her fuck-toy. I want to make her cum. I worship at the altar that is her pussy.
So she rode me. She came. I think she came a couple of times.
I just remember one of those several times, the last time that she was on top—I kept bucking my hips. She leaned forward, and I just grabbed her, held her close as she came. She came hard, it seemed like she didn’t know when she was going to stop cumming. As far as I was concerned, I was okay with that.
Passion was the word that defined that time. I would have done everything I could to keep her cumming indefinitely.
Once she came down from her high, I told her what I wanted to do to her.
“I’m going to fuck you from behind now,” I said. “Get up on all fours on the bed.”
She did. I love that I can tell her what to do and she does it. I don’t think it’s an S and M thing, we just want the same thing for each other. We want to make each other cum, we want to have a good time, we want to explode for each other and make each other explode. The relationship we have defies categorization, and justly so.
She put that beautiful ass of hers in the air, and I slid my condomized cock into her. Still, I had not cum. Not because I didn’t want to, not because she wasn’t trying to make me cum—she was.
My cock went in and out of her. I am such an ass man, and I love her ass. The last time that I had been in her and fucked her from behind was the first time we were together. I was relishing the noise as my stomach and her ass came together—the last time was in a men’s bathroom, and we had to worry about volume. Not so now.
I think I made her cum a couple of times this way. I don’t remember, by now they’re all blending together in my head.
I do remember thinking “I haven’t cum yet. God, how good would it feel to pull out, take the condom off and slide back in, bareback, surprising her.”
I wanted to so much. I was so close to doing that. I had mentally imagined the motor skills needed, what I would say (I have since forgotten what I would say).
But I didn’t.
My need to cum was primal. I had to fucking cum. It wasn’t that she had cum multiple times—I didn’t begrudge her any orgasm she had. I wanted her to have as many as she wanted.
I just wanted to fucking cum. In her pussy. Mark my territory. Fuck her good, and cum. I was single-minded in my purpose. With each thrust of my hips, each time my dick plunged into her, I wanted to cum more, exponentially so.
“I want to get on top,” I told her.
She complied, splaying those beautiful muscular legs out, and I slid into her.
It wasn’t long before I felt the tingle in my toes.
“I’m gonna cum,” I said, surprised, happy, anticipating the release.
“Do it,” she said.
I was tunnel-visioned. I wanted to cum. I needed to cum. I needed to cum more than I needed air. I fucked her harder, faster than I have ever fucked anyone ever. I came—hard.
I collapsed onto the bed, sweaty and satisfied, proud of how many times I had made her cum.
We got dressed. Well, actually, she got dressed. She gave me my t-shirt and my boxer-briefs. She told me I could put those items on, but that was all.
She makes me feel sexy and desirable. No one has ever made me feel this way, to this extent—ever.
I’d like to think that I’m the one who’s in charge in this relationship, sexually speaking. I think I am, mostly. At this point in time, she was in charge.
And I was okay with that.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
STORY: THE SMALLEST DETAILS FASCINATE ME
Your taste rolls upon my tongue. It lingers, faintly exotic...teasing, imploring me to trail the same path across your skin again. Sated, we lie in each other's arms, your hair a curtain spread across the two of us. My finger tugs gently at a wayward lock that curls against my cheek.
Your finger upon my lips tells me words are not needed right now. As if I could not read that message in your eyes for myself. Can I help it if I am completely distracted by that too full mouth of yours and long for it to burst like ripe fruit against my tongue? Bruise it a soft shade of crimson with my own? Ahhhh...but haven't I done that a hundred times already this evening? Each kiss eliciting the tiniest shock deep within you as my teeth delicately run the length of your throat.
The smallest details fascinate me - the way your smile starts out slowly, playing hide and seek upon your lips like a child until it blooms fully...the way you idly run your fingers down your arm and pull gently at your lower lip with your teeth when you are lost in thought. That slight hesitation that furrows your brow and the way the tip of your tongue catches between your teeth when you speak. I love to watch the subtle parade of moods shift across your face, all caught in the fraction of a second. I have learned to anticipate each nuance of shadow and light that illuminates it.
And each night with you brings some small, new treasure. I love that tiny pulse that beats savagely under the pale skin of your throat, the heat that my hands draw off you as they pass over your skin; the gasp that stops your breath when I touch you; the press of your leg as it catches between my own.
The coolness of the early autumn night moves over us and I can feel the slight shiver creep across your flesh. Drawing me down to hover over you, I sense anticipation brush between us like a whisper as my hands take yours captive with my own. Enslavement is a tender trap...and your capture this evening sweet beyond your knowing...
Your finger upon my lips tells me words are not needed right now. As if I could not read that message in your eyes for myself. Can I help it if I am completely distracted by that too full mouth of yours and long for it to burst like ripe fruit against my tongue? Bruise it a soft shade of crimson with my own? Ahhhh...but haven't I done that a hundred times already this evening? Each kiss eliciting the tiniest shock deep within you as my teeth delicately run the length of your throat.
The smallest details fascinate me - the way your smile starts out slowly, playing hide and seek upon your lips like a child until it blooms fully...the way you idly run your fingers down your arm and pull gently at your lower lip with your teeth when you are lost in thought. That slight hesitation that furrows your brow and the way the tip of your tongue catches between your teeth when you speak. I love to watch the subtle parade of moods shift across your face, all caught in the fraction of a second. I have learned to anticipate each nuance of shadow and light that illuminates it.
And each night with you brings some small, new treasure. I love that tiny pulse that beats savagely under the pale skin of your throat, the heat that my hands draw off you as they pass over your skin; the gasp that stops your breath when I touch you; the press of your leg as it catches between my own.
The coolness of the early autumn night moves over us and I can feel the slight shiver creep across your flesh. Drawing me down to hover over you, I sense anticipation brush between us like a whisper as my hands take yours captive with my own. Enslavement is a tender trap...and your capture this evening sweet beyond your knowing...
REVIEW: IT HAD TO BE YOU.....THE MOVIE
I bought this DVD after seeing Natasha Henstridge in 'Species'. Her beauty seemed to leap off the screen. The Anna Penn character (Natasha Henstridge) is clearly conflicted about her upcoming nuptials. She spots the very handsome Charlie Hudson character (Michael Vartan) in her hotel lobby and deliberately joins him in the elevator on the way up to their rooms. She flirts with the handsome stranger and finds out his name and room number. Anna, realizing that Charlie is in the room directly below her, cleverly creates a flood in his room by overflowing her bathtub. This is guaranteed to make an impression on Charlie and create another opportunity to meet him. Although I would have expected Charlie's bathroom to be directly below Anna's and the flood would not likely be directly over his bed.
Charley Hudson is engaged to Claire Parker (Joelle Carter), a shrewd and ambitious business woman who in reality would never even consider him a suitable mate. Charlie is a kept man in his fiancée's swanky home while attempting to write the great novel he is ill-equipped to produce. He is so out of step that he pecks away at a portable typewriter years after real authors have switched to computer word processors. Do publishers still accept typed manuscripts instead of e-mail or on computer disks? Strangely, Claire notices nothing amiss in Charlie's archaic choice of equipment to produce his breakthrough novel. I doubt that the writers of this screenplay produced their product on typewriters, why are they consigning their character to such an obtuse choice of equipment?
Anna's best friend Tracy (Olivia D'Abo) first appears with a dark wig in her job in a beauty parlor. In every subsequent appearance, Tracy has this horrible strawberry blonde hairdo that is hardly attractive. Somehow, I would expect a hairdresser to look more appealing than that if she ever expected to get other women to trust their hair to her.
Anyway, Charlie really starts to warm up to Anna and eagerly accepts any excuse to keep the new relationship going. Anna now starts to get cold feet and back off on their undeclared romance. This seems strange considering the fact that Anna's mother and prospective mother-in-law clearly despise each other when the three women meet for a luncheon. The effect of this animosity would almost certainly doom any marriage. Anna seems determined to marry her fiancée while clearly enjoying the company of Charlie more than she should.
I really wondered at all the mutual hugging the cops engaged in in this movie. No parting of friends or successful accomplishment of a suicide prevention was complete without a lot of hugs. I suppose that cops have become a lot more sensitive types since the days of Dick Tracy. The criminals in New York must look on with tearful approval on the new enlightenment.
The conclusion of the film was so contrived as to be unbearable. Anna's fellow teacher reads Charlie's completed novel and relates the plot over lunch in the teacher's lounge. Anna realizes that both she and Charlie have broken off their engagements and are free to wed. The two love birds reunite and tie the knot and all is resolved.
The film ends with the wonderful song 'At Last' by Etta James. This song does a lot to end the film on a high note (literaly). Natasha and Michael do their best with such a flawed script. Some parts of the film are even enjoyable, if you don't think too much about the plot. The two leads had detectable chemistry and you wanted them to get together. Let's hope they choose better material if they want long careers.
REVIEW: ANGRY CONVERSATION WITH GOD....THE BOOK
I've been reading a book the past few weeks called Angry Conversations With God It's pretty stellar. Not only that, but she's friggin' hilarious. And amid the humor, there is truth. The premise of the book, although a bit far-fetched, is that she takes God to couples counseling. She finds a Christian counselor that invites her to engage in "conversations" with God about her issues with him and where she finds him "at fault" in the relationship. That being said, I will share some of the parts I love most. (if you read nothing else, read the last one)
God: You apologized years ago and I forgave you. This is the same thing you did when you were eighteen: "I know you're angry and you hate me: I'll do everything right so you'll love me." I didn't hate you. And I never loved you because you were good. I loved you because you were mine.
God:I don't have a problem with sex. I invented it, didn't I? I did not design the body to be celibate at forty. I also didn't design you to be stuck in emotional adolescence into retirement.
Susan: And therein lies the conflict.
God: It's your messed-up culture that has set up the conflict, not me. Please, go, have sex! Live out the Song of Solomon. Only do it married, with a Christian man who's going to understand your whole heart.
Susan: Those men weren't available. They all read Kiss My Dating Ass Goodbye.
Susan: I wanted to be loved.
God: So do I, Susan. I have loved you your whole life. I've never left you. Even when you wanted me to. I brought you out of despair. I dumped so many blessings into your life. You had nearly everything. Except one thing: a man. Don't you think I knew that? Did you have no patience?
Susan: No patience?! I was nearly forty years old.
God: Well, as you said: you live in a fallen world and it sucks.
Susan: You created this world.
God: But I didn't make it fall, Susan. I didn't make it suck.
God:...What are your complaints against me? That I didn't give you the career you wanted? That you didn't get the husband you wanted? I'm not a life insurance policy: I am your Maker. I want to be the Lover of your soul. You married me for my money! I know the church is mess up. Do you know why? Because they're like you: you're here to improve your own life. And then when you don't get what you want, you complain.... I gave you my life, Susan. But you wanted a career and a boyfriend....If you decide you want to know the real me - not a drill-sergeant Father or a wimpy Jesus you can minipulate or blame. If you want to love the real me, for better or worse, richer or poorer, lonely or in love - which is how I've loved you, Susan - then I'll be back. But not until then. And don't ask me to come back until you mean it. Because I'll know.
God: You apologized years ago and I forgave you. This is the same thing you did when you were eighteen: "I know you're angry and you hate me: I'll do everything right so you'll love me." I didn't hate you. And I never loved you because you were good. I loved you because you were mine.
God:I don't have a problem with sex. I invented it, didn't I? I did not design the body to be celibate at forty. I also didn't design you to be stuck in emotional adolescence into retirement.
Susan: And therein lies the conflict.
God: It's your messed-up culture that has set up the conflict, not me. Please, go, have sex! Live out the Song of Solomon. Only do it married, with a Christian man who's going to understand your whole heart.
Susan: Those men weren't available. They all read Kiss My Dating Ass Goodbye.
Susan: I wanted to be loved.
God: So do I, Susan. I have loved you your whole life. I've never left you. Even when you wanted me to. I brought you out of despair. I dumped so many blessings into your life. You had nearly everything. Except one thing: a man. Don't you think I knew that? Did you have no patience?
Susan: No patience?! I was nearly forty years old.
God: Well, as you said: you live in a fallen world and it sucks.
Susan: You created this world.
God: But I didn't make it fall, Susan. I didn't make it suck.
God:...What are your complaints against me? That I didn't give you the career you wanted? That you didn't get the husband you wanted? I'm not a life insurance policy: I am your Maker. I want to be the Lover of your soul. You married me for my money! I know the church is mess up. Do you know why? Because they're like you: you're here to improve your own life. And then when you don't get what you want, you complain.... I gave you my life, Susan. But you wanted a career and a boyfriend....If you decide you want to know the real me - not a drill-sergeant Father or a wimpy Jesus you can minipulate or blame. If you want to love the real me, for better or worse, richer or poorer, lonely or in love - which is how I've loved you, Susan - then I'll be back. But not until then. And don't ask me to come back until you mean it. Because I'll know.
JOURNAL: THE NIGHT ENCOMPASSES ME
When the lights go out and I lay my head to rest, the cold of the night encompasses me. I open my eyes and it is no surprise that I am alone. No noise, no light, no body. A chill rises to the surface of my skin, and a surge of shock is induced. As I close my sight, my breath begins to slow, and my thoughts are plentiful. I dream of love. I dream of you near me. I dream of the smoothness of your beautiful skin, not touching me, but stimulating me by the heat that emanates from your hands, floating gently above my skin.
Love? What is love? To me, love is something I had to learn because I did not understand love. I did not realize that love comes from inside, to be bequeathed upon those who deserved it. I thought love was something to be touched, bought and fought for. I know now that love cannot be touched, it cannot be bought, but it had always been fought for. I know now love is an intangible object, a feeling of wholeness, the feeling of wanting to be with my woman and enjoying her like tomorrow may not come. I want to make love to her, without penetration, first. I want to make love to her mind, then her body. I need this, beautiful woman. Can you give this to me? Will you give me your mind to titillate and guide you to oneness within my world? Are we able to ascend to the greater heights to where we can become one forever?
I want a woman who will dream about me making love to her as much as I dream about making love to her. I want a woman who will allow me pushthe human limits of our lovemaking, for I will not be satisfied, until she has had her fill..
Love? What is love? To me, love is something I had to learn because I did not understand love. I did not realize that love comes from inside, to be bequeathed upon those who deserved it. I thought love was something to be touched, bought and fought for. I know now that love cannot be touched, it cannot be bought, but it had always been fought for. I know now love is an intangible object, a feeling of wholeness, the feeling of wanting to be with my woman and enjoying her like tomorrow may not come. I want to make love to her, without penetration, first. I want to make love to her mind, then her body. I need this, beautiful woman. Can you give this to me? Will you give me your mind to titillate and guide you to oneness within my world? Are we able to ascend to the greater heights to where we can become one forever?
I want a woman who will dream about me making love to her as much as I dream about making love to her. I want a woman who will allow me pushthe human limits of our lovemaking, for I will not be satisfied, until she has had her fill..
THOUGHT: WHAT DO WE LIVE FOR?
What do you believe in? What compels you to wake each morning and retire each night? I just don’t get it. Life is supposed to be survival and procreation, but we’ve stripped ourselves of that. Why is it that [you] participate in demise—by contributing to a system that only mocks our very being? Life isn’t capitalism. And it isn’t survival. And it isn’t procreation–[it is no longer what it should be]. Why should I work to earn powers and prestige and money? What for, for death, for distribution? I just don’t get it. I have to believe in something to convince myself that there is some sort of worth. But I can think of nothing. Bah, God! I am living to redeem myself and reach eternal life and heavenly bliss? Biology proves otherwise. We’ve stripped ourselves of biology. I cannot believe that we are living only to destroy ourselves, but that is what I see. So, what is it that you believe in? Why is it worth it? For love? Ok, after that? Happiness…I know it can’t be that. There is something more, and it’s not that thought of never finding it that bothers me, it’s that I have nothing to believe in. And if I have nothing to believe in, then my troubles are for what?
My response:
Your questions open a huge number of doors to explore. I mean, right off the bat, “What do you believe in?” is a huge question. For now, I’ll try to take the more methodical approach and go one by one. What do I believe in? God damn, that is a good question.
I think to answer this question I must look at my life and how I have ended up where I am now. The reason I start this way is that I think that there are two aspects of importance to my answer. First, there are principles and boundaries that I obey without thinking. Second, there are things that I aspire towards and consciously make decisions in light of. Well, I believe that there isn’t any reason for living. There are no reasons for any of this world that we so easily accept as real. Without a god, what meaning can be found in a world that appears to have been evolved from simpler worlds (i.e. evolution is real and well studied). This implies a faith in science over a faith in theism; and this is with good reason. If we have not observation, the scientific method, calculation, verification, testing, repeatability, modification, refinement, extrapolation, proof, failure, competition, all these things, then how can we rely on anything we see? Religion offers the answers without the stringent testing and evaluation. It doesn’t make sense. So without a god–no reason to believe in one–where is there meaning if not from within one’s self? Reason without a god means that we cannot derive reason for life from something external other than looking at what evolution seems to have led us as creatures to do. Evolution seems to have led Homo sapiens as a species, just as all the other species existing, to continue to exist. By that, the answer to the question, “Why am I here?” is to make it possible for someone else to be here and ask that question. For what do we have if not everything we perceive? What do I believe? Well, I believe that all we have is our emotions. These are things that are built in and we cannot deny their effects nor the force they put upon our happiness and will. Also, with these emotions a great many things are happening that we often don’t understand without a lot of study and guidance. These things result from a predisposition as a creature reacting to present day situations. When I feel like a strong monogamous relationship with a great woman is the only thing I really aspire toward as a life goal it is a response to biology and the psychology that I grew up with. I may be wrong about the interpretation of the psychology, but the effects are real and they mean everything to me. An important point is that these feelings don’t have to make sense. They are real to me. What do I believe? I am the universe. I don’t meant that I think I am the center of everything, nor do I mean that I want it that way. I mean that there is nothing real in my mind outside the interpretation my mind gives it and therefore the world I experience is a result of my thoughts, emotions, senses, and reasoning. It seems, then, that what is ultimately important is achieving a mental satisfaction. I say it this way because I believe that saying life is about maximizing happiness is incorrect. We define ourselves differently than just finding happiness. We define ourselves by success and triumph, our relationships with fellow men and women and the status we perceive they belong to. We all want to feel important as well as immortal. We all want to feel like we matter and we derive that from other people and how they treat us. We also want to feel like our mark on the world is real so we have pride in our products; whether that be our work or our family or our relationships with other people.
What does compel me to wake in the morning? Without thought, I get up and do the things I don’t think about; fulfill sexual desires, eat, find entertainment, more sleep, and somewhere in there I do some things that I have been, not only conditioned for but, convinced that I need to do in order to get many of the things that make me feel a little better. It’s almost like as human beings we are always on the edge of cliffs, fearing the fall, looking for extended hands to pull us away from the edge, but secretly wondering what the fall is like. I mean, we all fear death innately or explicitly, but it defines us; it tells us that some things are just not really worth very much to life. And if we are aware enough, we realize that nothing we can buy makes us feel like we are being pulled away from the cliff. Others…a big house, big car, big television, big ego, big religion; these things are disguised as things that keep you from falling off the great arrow of time, but really they are things to take advantage of the fact that people are afraid of falling. I wake up in the morning because I know that I don’t need all this bullshit and that there is something about life that I love more than anything else. I can’t put my finger on it. I know that life is utterly meaningless. I know that I don’t’ have a purpose, but I also know that there is a real world out there. There are people I care about and that care about me. I don’t explicitly tell myself that these people are why I get up in the morning, but that is exactly why I get up. I feel real as long as they acknowledge that I am real; and they get the same from me. I get up in the morning because I know that the world offers me anything I want and that I do have things I want that I can get. The tough question for everyone to ask themselves is what they want. That question isn’t so easily answered without definitions. It has taken a lot of years and mental struggle to get near this answer and I don’t think it can be had by merely hearing it. You have to live, struggle, think, and understand to begin to refine what is important and why. I know that people are important to me and I am pretty sure this is universal among human beings. Defining your relationship with mankind and the psychological issues that drive you is another question that must be answered. I have my own preliminary answers that seem to make sense, and those are the ones that help me make sense of how I feel and where I stand in the world.
You mention capitalism and that is important. Capitalism has large impacts on people. It sets out to define what is good, bad, desirable, meaningful, and what will make you feel better and worse. It does this without concern for what people really need or what is healthy, but to create better consumers and fulfill the end that capitalism is designed to maximize. People have to see the system for what it is and realize their own part in it. We all struggle to free ourselves from it and the more we understand it the more we can escape it. I think I have a pretty good understanding of it, but the allures of such technological and convenient products are inescapable in a modern society. But I see it. I know the mistake (I’ll just call it that) that has been made, but it is a much greater question again to ask what progress is and why or why not is the current state right or wrong. This all comes down to awareness. Understand as much as you can and you’ll be on your way to living a more sound life.
But you are always left with the skeptical eye. So what if you understand it all?! What the fuck am I supposed to do now? In one way I see the question, but in another I see a side effect causing it. There is a reason there is some angst and that must be addressed. Where are you from in terms of family and friends? I would bet that it has at least a little bit to do with asking the question about life being utterly meaningless. Anybody can ask the question, but to have a sort of disgust for life as only leading toward death in some wicked cycle where we all just create more life so that it too can die, that drive is from anger. I’ve felt it. I know it. And nothing can help you escape it because I think in an important way it is tied to the very emotions that you do not trust. I say, “Life is Pointless/Priceless” but the simple fact is that you are alive. Take that as a starting point and then ask why you are alive–and not in the “meaning of life” sense, but how your physical being came to be. Then ask what things you have control of and what things you care about. Ask why you care about them. But try to understand that there are things you care about that perhaps you might not have acknowledged as such. This journey, I think, is not really all that easy. Things reveal themselves without warning or pattern. My point is, I’ve felt like crap many times before. I’ve been depressed without reason and have done things as a result of it. Depression is beyond reason, just as a lot of happiness. Life is about the things that don’t need to make sense. To live a better life is to live without malicious influence and to live for life as much as possible while keeping that analytical eye ever so open. The future can be predicted with enough information, but don’t miss the present. The present is where life is.
Why do you need something to believe in? Loosely, you have to believe in something. It is like the mathematician has faith in science, even though at its very end lies the grandest of all questions that will never be answered. What drives the question in the first place? It implies value in belief. Belief is just a word for a mental disposition that people without enough information lean on. Belief is a comforting idea that says, “You can stop worrying about that part now. Just trust me.” Belief is just another way to satisfy the mind. I require more reason and logic than a lot of people. But still, there is some level of belief that I must retain for sanity. I know that solid objects act in certain ways–I believe this. But this belief is backed up with history–yet another belief, that history is real. What else have we got? Believe that you are real and that you feel real things. Believe all that seems obvious, but question everything–even the obvious. Learn what was stupid to believe and what things are harmful to other believers. Build a library of things that can safely be believed, and many of those entries will follow science. I think people–religious people, especially–don’t know how to handle uncertainty. I don’t understand the origin of the universe, but I don’t have to. I am satisfied with the answer, “I don’t know.”
I am reminded of the scene in Fight Club when Brad Pitt is burning Edward Norton’s hand with acid and is trying to get Ed to realize that his pain is right here, right now, and to embrace that which life has enabled him to experience.
My response:
Your questions open a huge number of doors to explore. I mean, right off the bat, “What do you believe in?” is a huge question. For now, I’ll try to take the more methodical approach and go one by one. What do I believe in? God damn, that is a good question.
I think to answer this question I must look at my life and how I have ended up where I am now. The reason I start this way is that I think that there are two aspects of importance to my answer. First, there are principles and boundaries that I obey without thinking. Second, there are things that I aspire towards and consciously make decisions in light of. Well, I believe that there isn’t any reason for living. There are no reasons for any of this world that we so easily accept as real. Without a god, what meaning can be found in a world that appears to have been evolved from simpler worlds (i.e. evolution is real and well studied). This implies a faith in science over a faith in theism; and this is with good reason. If we have not observation, the scientific method, calculation, verification, testing, repeatability, modification, refinement, extrapolation, proof, failure, competition, all these things, then how can we rely on anything we see? Religion offers the answers without the stringent testing and evaluation. It doesn’t make sense. So without a god–no reason to believe in one–where is there meaning if not from within one’s self? Reason without a god means that we cannot derive reason for life from something external other than looking at what evolution seems to have led us as creatures to do. Evolution seems to have led Homo sapiens as a species, just as all the other species existing, to continue to exist. By that, the answer to the question, “Why am I here?” is to make it possible for someone else to be here and ask that question. For what do we have if not everything we perceive? What do I believe? Well, I believe that all we have is our emotions. These are things that are built in and we cannot deny their effects nor the force they put upon our happiness and will. Also, with these emotions a great many things are happening that we often don’t understand without a lot of study and guidance. These things result from a predisposition as a creature reacting to present day situations. When I feel like a strong monogamous relationship with a great woman is the only thing I really aspire toward as a life goal it is a response to biology and the psychology that I grew up with. I may be wrong about the interpretation of the psychology, but the effects are real and they mean everything to me. An important point is that these feelings don’t have to make sense. They are real to me. What do I believe? I am the universe. I don’t meant that I think I am the center of everything, nor do I mean that I want it that way. I mean that there is nothing real in my mind outside the interpretation my mind gives it and therefore the world I experience is a result of my thoughts, emotions, senses, and reasoning. It seems, then, that what is ultimately important is achieving a mental satisfaction. I say it this way because I believe that saying life is about maximizing happiness is incorrect. We define ourselves differently than just finding happiness. We define ourselves by success and triumph, our relationships with fellow men and women and the status we perceive they belong to. We all want to feel important as well as immortal. We all want to feel like we matter and we derive that from other people and how they treat us. We also want to feel like our mark on the world is real so we have pride in our products; whether that be our work or our family or our relationships with other people.
What does compel me to wake in the morning? Without thought, I get up and do the things I don’t think about; fulfill sexual desires, eat, find entertainment, more sleep, and somewhere in there I do some things that I have been, not only conditioned for but, convinced that I need to do in order to get many of the things that make me feel a little better. It’s almost like as human beings we are always on the edge of cliffs, fearing the fall, looking for extended hands to pull us away from the edge, but secretly wondering what the fall is like. I mean, we all fear death innately or explicitly, but it defines us; it tells us that some things are just not really worth very much to life. And if we are aware enough, we realize that nothing we can buy makes us feel like we are being pulled away from the cliff. Others…a big house, big car, big television, big ego, big religion; these things are disguised as things that keep you from falling off the great arrow of time, but really they are things to take advantage of the fact that people are afraid of falling. I wake up in the morning because I know that I don’t need all this bullshit and that there is something about life that I love more than anything else. I can’t put my finger on it. I know that life is utterly meaningless. I know that I don’t’ have a purpose, but I also know that there is a real world out there. There are people I care about and that care about me. I don’t explicitly tell myself that these people are why I get up in the morning, but that is exactly why I get up. I feel real as long as they acknowledge that I am real; and they get the same from me. I get up in the morning because I know that the world offers me anything I want and that I do have things I want that I can get. The tough question for everyone to ask themselves is what they want. That question isn’t so easily answered without definitions. It has taken a lot of years and mental struggle to get near this answer and I don’t think it can be had by merely hearing it. You have to live, struggle, think, and understand to begin to refine what is important and why. I know that people are important to me and I am pretty sure this is universal among human beings. Defining your relationship with mankind and the psychological issues that drive you is another question that must be answered. I have my own preliminary answers that seem to make sense, and those are the ones that help me make sense of how I feel and where I stand in the world.
You mention capitalism and that is important. Capitalism has large impacts on people. It sets out to define what is good, bad, desirable, meaningful, and what will make you feel better and worse. It does this without concern for what people really need or what is healthy, but to create better consumers and fulfill the end that capitalism is designed to maximize. People have to see the system for what it is and realize their own part in it. We all struggle to free ourselves from it and the more we understand it the more we can escape it. I think I have a pretty good understanding of it, but the allures of such technological and convenient products are inescapable in a modern society. But I see it. I know the mistake (I’ll just call it that) that has been made, but it is a much greater question again to ask what progress is and why or why not is the current state right or wrong. This all comes down to awareness. Understand as much as you can and you’ll be on your way to living a more sound life.
But you are always left with the skeptical eye. So what if you understand it all?! What the fuck am I supposed to do now? In one way I see the question, but in another I see a side effect causing it. There is a reason there is some angst and that must be addressed. Where are you from in terms of family and friends? I would bet that it has at least a little bit to do with asking the question about life being utterly meaningless. Anybody can ask the question, but to have a sort of disgust for life as only leading toward death in some wicked cycle where we all just create more life so that it too can die, that drive is from anger. I’ve felt it. I know it. And nothing can help you escape it because I think in an important way it is tied to the very emotions that you do not trust. I say, “Life is Pointless/Priceless” but the simple fact is that you are alive. Take that as a starting point and then ask why you are alive–and not in the “meaning of life” sense, but how your physical being came to be. Then ask what things you have control of and what things you care about. Ask why you care about them. But try to understand that there are things you care about that perhaps you might not have acknowledged as such. This journey, I think, is not really all that easy. Things reveal themselves without warning or pattern. My point is, I’ve felt like crap many times before. I’ve been depressed without reason and have done things as a result of it. Depression is beyond reason, just as a lot of happiness. Life is about the things that don’t need to make sense. To live a better life is to live without malicious influence and to live for life as much as possible while keeping that analytical eye ever so open. The future can be predicted with enough information, but don’t miss the present. The present is where life is.
Why do you need something to believe in? Loosely, you have to believe in something. It is like the mathematician has faith in science, even though at its very end lies the grandest of all questions that will never be answered. What drives the question in the first place? It implies value in belief. Belief is just a word for a mental disposition that people without enough information lean on. Belief is a comforting idea that says, “You can stop worrying about that part now. Just trust me.” Belief is just another way to satisfy the mind. I require more reason and logic than a lot of people. But still, there is some level of belief that I must retain for sanity. I know that solid objects act in certain ways–I believe this. But this belief is backed up with history–yet another belief, that history is real. What else have we got? Believe that you are real and that you feel real things. Believe all that seems obvious, but question everything–even the obvious. Learn what was stupid to believe and what things are harmful to other believers. Build a library of things that can safely be believed, and many of those entries will follow science. I think people–religious people, especially–don’t know how to handle uncertainty. I don’t understand the origin of the universe, but I don’t have to. I am satisfied with the answer, “I don’t know.”
I am reminded of the scene in Fight Club when Brad Pitt is burning Edward Norton’s hand with acid and is trying to get Ed to realize that his pain is right here, right now, and to embrace that which life has enabled him to experience.
THOUGHT: WHAT I WANT **
I want a relationship where both people bare their souls long before they bare their bodies. I want a level of intimacy that makes the physical act of sex pale in comparison. I want to be inside her soul and her to be inside mine. I want to look into her eyes and have the earth stand still. The touching, the lovemaking will be but one expression of that intimacy, a celebration of our life together. I go on and on about fantasies here but there's some I've not mentioned that are at the top of the list. I dream of waking up next to my true love everyday, seeing her asleep or having her already awake looking at me in amazement and wonder. I dream of having breakfast with her. I dream of meeting her at the front door after work with a bottle of chilled wine and hors devours, candlelight dinner and romantic music, a warm bubble bath with candles and a quiet evening of togetherness. I dream of cleaning house with her, letting me clean the bathrooms. I dream of shopping with her; clothes, groceries, you name it. I dream of sharing everything that I am or ever will be with her and sharing all that she is. That's my dream.
THOUGHTS:THIS URGE TO FUCK
I have this fascination with self (only subtly leading to fascination with MYself). All this stuff about meaning and worth, and ultimate goals comes from our mortality. There is another experience that brings me to the same place that internalizing your own future, impending death does. This other experience is a bit hard to describe. It is more along the lines of that “Eureka” moment when suddenly the answer is apparent without the language to describe it. It is this weird introspective moment where you realize that the only reason you have a thought is because you have a body and that it had a beginning and will have an end. Everything in between is an experience felt and understood by physical processes that we identify as our self.
This makes just as much sense to see other people and realize that they are just the same, and then everything always comes back to yourself. Ultimately all the confusion and discussion comes down to you. I look at myself in the mirror, my full body in the closet door mirror, and that is when I see me as best I can like everyone else does. I see me without the thoughts, words, emotions, etc. going at the same time. That’s how we see each other. This is not altogether correct, but I mean to separate the experience of how you see yourself and how others see you. In reality, we all judge emotions and attitudes based on perceived information. And once you’ve got a hold of your own physical, biological, psychological existence you start applying it what you think of life and the future. I think about what spending most of a day working means. I think about what spending my free time means. I think about what my relationships with people mean. I think about what I want and what I have planned. When I realize that I am going to die and that I’m just a mush of flesh like everyone else, all wrapped up with emotions and desires, I see that fear is pointless in a lot of situations. I wonder if you are free to think this way if you are bound to religion. I have been religion-free for about 7 years now, not counting the transition period of uncertainty. Does any of this perspective help me?
In a large way, and I’m steadily chipping away at where it all comes from, I feel like one of the most important drives for me is finding the right woman (there is a bit of irony in that). With that goal, one day, well in motion, the other drives take on new meaning. My goddamn childhood has made me the introvert that is often so internal that it is more inclined to want than to actually acquire. This greatly applies to women (my want of) and emotions (my handling of). So I’ve always got to ask, “What the hell am I doing?” Perhaps I should also answer the question, “What kind of woman is the right woman, and what kind is wrong?” This kind of question is supposed to be answered through experience but I’m the introvert. Would I work well with a woman that has questioned life like I have? Would I work well with a woman that hasn’t but is capable of understanding to a fairly respectable extent? I think the later is what I should aim for because being too similar in that way could be aggravating at some point. The person that I am, though, means that too much thought occurs before the approach. If I’m talking to you, you made it evident that you want me to talk to you, or I’m fairly drunk and ‘light on my feet’ so to speak. I’m no good with uncertainty and speaking with an attractive woman for that very reason is as uncertain as it gets. “Hello, I want to hug and kiss you in the future, and a little later, but not too much later, I want to do things to you that you’d hesitate telling anyone about. But trust me, I’m the best man in this room and I’ll love you to no end. I want a friendship like only a man and woman can have. And one day I want to be doing things to you that you’d hesitate telling anyone about. I want to experience life with you. But I’m talking to you right now because I’d have no problem fucking you right now. Of course if you said you would fuck me right now, I’d turn you down because I wouldn’t want to be with a girl that does that…well, maybe just a BJ…well…uh…” Ehh, you see? What a mess. And there is much more dialogue—monologue, whatever—that goes into deciding how to approach a cute girl.
Jumping along the tangent to the curve, here, I asked myself what this physicality idea has to do with men and women as groups. Mainly, I was looking at the fact that women look, dress, act, and represent certain things that I have a hard time accepting as meaningful or integral (is that the correct word for part of integrity?). The example that always gets me thinking along these lines is modeling or being a trophy babe. I was watching a show on Fuel TV (I can’t stand TV but Fuel is full day of cool shit [as opposed to the big steaming pile of shit that most of TV is]) and the hostess was labeled and indeed wearing a shirt that said ‘token hottie’ or something along that line. I thought to myself, “I sure as hell wouldn’t do that.” She’s content at being looked at for being sexually appealing. But what’s worse is that the appeal is not due to some godly fortune of perfect human form. No, it is because guys are driven by their hard-ons like no other drive in the world. I’ve heard the male sex drive being explained in a way that females can understand in the following way. When a guy sees, or even thinks about sex, or is even reminding of it in the simplest way, the urge is there and must be satisfied. This urge can be understood by women by understanding the drive to eat. When you are hungry only eating can satisfy it. For women, they want sex, granted. But they don’t get the urge to have sex by merely the suggestion of the idea or seeing a man. Sure, it happens, but that is not their nature. A man sees a woman (not just any woman—there are boundaries) or something suggestive and the drive for sex is a hunger that drives action. A man and a woman could be looking at a ‘tasteful’ nude photograph and the woman would agree, “She’s very sexy and even sexually suggestive”, but the man would be frothing at the mouth to get his hands on her. So how does this relate to what I was saying earlier? Well, I want to criticize women for showing their stuff off and using it to their advantage, but it makes more sense to understand why things are that way. I want to have sex with her. She doesn’t want to have sex with me (it doesn’t mean she wouldn’t, but that’s how the game is played) but her attractiveness means that people treat her in ways that feel good and allow her to put less effort into things that, say, I think are important. This is way oversimplified but the point is to get at the fact that women are built to attract men and men are built to pursue them at any cost. Does this mean the ‘token hottie’ is acceptable? I don’t think so because it is different than the model decorating the sports car. When you are being told that, “We don’t really need you for anything but showing your body off” and you accept the job by putting on a shirt that says “I’m only worth my tits and ass”, it really makes it hard to feel any sense of worth. It’s exploitation as opposed to esthetics or art. I get art. I get beauty for the sake of it. I even get sexuality as art. It is the motivation and meaning that makes the difference.
This makes just as much sense to see other people and realize that they are just the same, and then everything always comes back to yourself. Ultimately all the confusion and discussion comes down to you. I look at myself in the mirror, my full body in the closet door mirror, and that is when I see me as best I can like everyone else does. I see me without the thoughts, words, emotions, etc. going at the same time. That’s how we see each other. This is not altogether correct, but I mean to separate the experience of how you see yourself and how others see you. In reality, we all judge emotions and attitudes based on perceived information. And once you’ve got a hold of your own physical, biological, psychological existence you start applying it what you think of life and the future. I think about what spending most of a day working means. I think about what spending my free time means. I think about what my relationships with people mean. I think about what I want and what I have planned. When I realize that I am going to die and that I’m just a mush of flesh like everyone else, all wrapped up with emotions and desires, I see that fear is pointless in a lot of situations. I wonder if you are free to think this way if you are bound to religion. I have been religion-free for about 7 years now, not counting the transition period of uncertainty. Does any of this perspective help me?
In a large way, and I’m steadily chipping away at where it all comes from, I feel like one of the most important drives for me is finding the right woman (there is a bit of irony in that). With that goal, one day, well in motion, the other drives take on new meaning. My goddamn childhood has made me the introvert that is often so internal that it is more inclined to want than to actually acquire. This greatly applies to women (my want of) and emotions (my handling of). So I’ve always got to ask, “What the hell am I doing?” Perhaps I should also answer the question, “What kind of woman is the right woman, and what kind is wrong?” This kind of question is supposed to be answered through experience but I’m the introvert. Would I work well with a woman that has questioned life like I have? Would I work well with a woman that hasn’t but is capable of understanding to a fairly respectable extent? I think the later is what I should aim for because being too similar in that way could be aggravating at some point. The person that I am, though, means that too much thought occurs before the approach. If I’m talking to you, you made it evident that you want me to talk to you, or I’m fairly drunk and ‘light on my feet’ so to speak. I’m no good with uncertainty and speaking with an attractive woman for that very reason is as uncertain as it gets. “Hello, I want to hug and kiss you in the future, and a little later, but not too much later, I want to do things to you that you’d hesitate telling anyone about. But trust me, I’m the best man in this room and I’ll love you to no end. I want a friendship like only a man and woman can have. And one day I want to be doing things to you that you’d hesitate telling anyone about. I want to experience life with you. But I’m talking to you right now because I’d have no problem fucking you right now. Of course if you said you would fuck me right now, I’d turn you down because I wouldn’t want to be with a girl that does that…well, maybe just a BJ…well…uh…” Ehh, you see? What a mess. And there is much more dialogue—monologue, whatever—that goes into deciding how to approach a cute girl.
Jumping along the tangent to the curve, here, I asked myself what this physicality idea has to do with men and women as groups. Mainly, I was looking at the fact that women look, dress, act, and represent certain things that I have a hard time accepting as meaningful or integral (is that the correct word for part of integrity?). The example that always gets me thinking along these lines is modeling or being a trophy babe. I was watching a show on Fuel TV (I can’t stand TV but Fuel is full day of cool shit [as opposed to the big steaming pile of shit that most of TV is]) and the hostess was labeled and indeed wearing a shirt that said ‘token hottie’ or something along that line. I thought to myself, “I sure as hell wouldn’t do that.” She’s content at being looked at for being sexually appealing. But what’s worse is that the appeal is not due to some godly fortune of perfect human form. No, it is because guys are driven by their hard-ons like no other drive in the world. I’ve heard the male sex drive being explained in a way that females can understand in the following way. When a guy sees, or even thinks about sex, or is even reminding of it in the simplest way, the urge is there and must be satisfied. This urge can be understood by women by understanding the drive to eat. When you are hungry only eating can satisfy it. For women, they want sex, granted. But they don’t get the urge to have sex by merely the suggestion of the idea or seeing a man. Sure, it happens, but that is not their nature. A man sees a woman (not just any woman—there are boundaries) or something suggestive and the drive for sex is a hunger that drives action. A man and a woman could be looking at a ‘tasteful’ nude photograph and the woman would agree, “She’s very sexy and even sexually suggestive”, but the man would be frothing at the mouth to get his hands on her. So how does this relate to what I was saying earlier? Well, I want to criticize women for showing their stuff off and using it to their advantage, but it makes more sense to understand why things are that way. I want to have sex with her. She doesn’t want to have sex with me (it doesn’t mean she wouldn’t, but that’s how the game is played) but her attractiveness means that people treat her in ways that feel good and allow her to put less effort into things that, say, I think are important. This is way oversimplified but the point is to get at the fact that women are built to attract men and men are built to pursue them at any cost. Does this mean the ‘token hottie’ is acceptable? I don’t think so because it is different than the model decorating the sports car. When you are being told that, “We don’t really need you for anything but showing your body off” and you accept the job by putting on a shirt that says “I’m only worth my tits and ass”, it really makes it hard to feel any sense of worth. It’s exploitation as opposed to esthetics or art. I get art. I get beauty for the sake of it. I even get sexuality as art. It is the motivation and meaning that makes the difference.
THOUGHTS BEING A MAN IN A WORLD GOING CRAZY
Being a man. It’s difficult. Much more difficult than you’d think in fact. Forget the well documented perils of glass ceilings, monthly moods cycles, pregnancies and the genetic inability to control a pixelated character with a joypad, I’m talking proper difficult. Mensa test style difficult.
You see, it’s emasculation; the blight of the modern era. It lurks round every corner preying on the Western male like a disease… And not even a trendy disease with a big charity and celebrity endorsement by Jamie Oliver either… Oh no, more like a secret, shameful disease that you’re not even meant to have, a bit like ME or something. “What, you’ve got ME? You’re tired - It’s all in your head son, stop being a big gayer and have a pint like a real man”.
Us males have no distinct role anymore. Now before we begin, of course equality is a good thing and I wouldn’t have that part of society any other way, but it’s undeniable that our roles have become confused in the last 50 years. Men are no longer the sole evolutionary providers. Even if we choose to adopt this role, we’re emasculated, sitting behind a desk emailing rather than operating big machinery or lifting heavy objects for no other reason than we can Godammit. We create nothing and we serve everyone.
To most women (and some men of course), this is a load of nonsense. But I don’t expect them to understand. They don’t feel that urge to do what you could brand “manly” things. Building, running, chasing, fighting, protecting, it’s all hard coded into our genes. It’s no small coincidence that men love gangster films, shooting games, car kits, football violence and general competing with eachother on every level. And no, it’s not because we’re Neanderthals or backwards or simplistic, it’s because that’s what we’ve done for tens of thousands of years. Suddenly, within four generations that’s all changed with the latest generation feeling the accelerated change more than most.
Nonetheless, who were our role models when we were growing up? Your father? Perhaps. More than likely though, it’s from television and friggin’ Hollwood. Rocky, Rambo, Arnie, James Bond, Indiana Jones, Smokey and the Bandit, Clint Eastwood. Strong, quiet, hard fighting, hard drinking, honourable men who had a place. Their world made sense. Not in sexist slapping-and-shaking-
hysterical-women kinda way, but in the way that they were born knowing where they stood. They knew what they liked and liked what they knew. They had a purpose. Even today, these cartoon like heroes are shown as examples of maleness, even though their reality in this changing world is becoming less relevant by the day. It’s no wonder why we’re perplexed.
Today, we have nothing to define our masculinity. We have no war to fight, we have no great economic crisis, and we have no struggle. Utopian isn’t it? Well yes, but we also have no role. Aggressive businessmen stick out their chests and negotiate over a glass table, a plate of Borbons and a PowerPoint presentation in a meeting room. Hoards of males embrace their fading masculinity buy buying Japanese plastic sports cars to rev at the lights on the way to Waitrose to pick up the ingredients for a Thai green curry. Scores of men shout at their favourite football team at a weekends to hold onto the feeling of being in a clan. Keen DIYers spend hours building models and gadgets in their sheds to create anything with their hands. Is this what we’ve become? It makes me sick. Whilst the woman’s role has (quite rightly) grown from home maker and mother to well, limitless possibilities, the man’s role has impotently shrunk, leaving armies of dissatisfied and disillusioned men trying to work out how they should act and what they should be. Maybe Fight Club was actually onto something.
You see, it’s emasculation; the blight of the modern era. It lurks round every corner preying on the Western male like a disease… And not even a trendy disease with a big charity and celebrity endorsement by Jamie Oliver either… Oh no, more like a secret, shameful disease that you’re not even meant to have, a bit like ME or something. “What, you’ve got ME? You’re tired - It’s all in your head son, stop being a big gayer and have a pint like a real man”.
Us males have no distinct role anymore. Now before we begin, of course equality is a good thing and I wouldn’t have that part of society any other way, but it’s undeniable that our roles have become confused in the last 50 years. Men are no longer the sole evolutionary providers. Even if we choose to adopt this role, we’re emasculated, sitting behind a desk emailing rather than operating big machinery or lifting heavy objects for no other reason than we can Godammit. We create nothing and we serve everyone.
To most women (and some men of course), this is a load of nonsense. But I don’t expect them to understand. They don’t feel that urge to do what you could brand “manly” things. Building, running, chasing, fighting, protecting, it’s all hard coded into our genes. It’s no small coincidence that men love gangster films, shooting games, car kits, football violence and general competing with eachother on every level. And no, it’s not because we’re Neanderthals or backwards or simplistic, it’s because that’s what we’ve done for tens of thousands of years. Suddenly, within four generations that’s all changed with the latest generation feeling the accelerated change more than most.
Nonetheless, who were our role models when we were growing up? Your father? Perhaps. More than likely though, it’s from television and friggin’ Hollwood. Rocky, Rambo, Arnie, James Bond, Indiana Jones, Smokey and the Bandit, Clint Eastwood. Strong, quiet, hard fighting, hard drinking, honourable men who had a place. Their world made sense. Not in sexist slapping-and-shaking-
hysterical-women kinda way, but in the way that they were born knowing where they stood. They knew what they liked and liked what they knew. They had a purpose. Even today, these cartoon like heroes are shown as examples of maleness, even though their reality in this changing world is becoming less relevant by the day. It’s no wonder why we’re perplexed.
Today, we have nothing to define our masculinity. We have no war to fight, we have no great economic crisis, and we have no struggle. Utopian isn’t it? Well yes, but we also have no role. Aggressive businessmen stick out their chests and negotiate over a glass table, a plate of Borbons and a PowerPoint presentation in a meeting room. Hoards of males embrace their fading masculinity buy buying Japanese plastic sports cars to rev at the lights on the way to Waitrose to pick up the ingredients for a Thai green curry. Scores of men shout at their favourite football team at a weekends to hold onto the feeling of being in a clan. Keen DIYers spend hours building models and gadgets in their sheds to create anything with their hands. Is this what we’ve become? It makes me sick. Whilst the woman’s role has (quite rightly) grown from home maker and mother to well, limitless possibilities, the man’s role has impotently shrunk, leaving armies of dissatisfied and disillusioned men trying to work out how they should act and what they should be. Maybe Fight Club was actually onto something.
THOUGHTS: BEING A MONEY SLAVE PART II
Sitting, thinking. Thinking, sitting. Pontificating, musing and deliberating and endlessly, endlessly worrying. Fucking existential bollocks, I’m sick of it. To able to drink would be nice. To escape the mindless, cyclical over analysing that’s driving me crazy. I despise the careerist, status orientated consumers, but I also envy them. They achieve their satisfaction from an endless cycle of working and buying, buying and working in which they seem to find some sort of bizarre contentment. Content in buying, satisfying themselves with big televisions sitting within mortgaged properties, representing achievement. This is living! The sportier-than-my-neighbour’s-
This modern living epidemic never stops, but then again who want it to? Everybody’s happy; happy painting their lives by numbers. Brother, ignorance is bliss. Amen to that. Why think about who you aren’t helping or what you might be contributing to when you can watch Eastenders in High definition and have a quiet life with a bit of cash in your pocket? I don’t blame them.
But I can’t do it. I can’t feel that contentment. I feel at odds with just existing. I love life but I’m smothered by middle class guilt, overwhelmed by societal expectation, shackled by possessions and trapped by my own neurosis. I literally don’t understand how I should be living. Part of me, the old, healthy, drinking, fingers in ears me thinks that worrying about who you bank with, where your food comes from, what you give to charity and how much you explore your so called yearning soul is so exclusively a middle class privilege and is, well frankly fuck off embarrassing. What a bunch of hippy bollocks. But another part of me, the part that’s always been there, the part that makes me think I’m a sell out moron every morning my alarm goes off, the part of me that feels life is so precious and scarce that I want to violently shake strangers in the street and scream at the top of my lungs “DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?!” realises that it’s the most important decision in your life… how to actually live.
What is life if you’re not true to yourself, or you’re not brave enough to act on your instincts and cast aside everything that means nothing? Possessions. A secure job. I hate them all. Hate them, hate them, hate them. I feel their weight on my shoulders, the burden increasing every day as I wonder what to do. How to “get out”. How to live ethically, morally, truthful and most of all how to live free.
The truth is, as humans, most, if not all of us don’t want freedom. We have enough thank you very much. We’re free to go anywhere we like! Well, passports permitting. And money. Which is in turn dependent on employers. And then there’s the airline schedules of course. And the limited stay based on visa documentation (or lack of it). Well, we’re free to watch what we want on TV. Well, apart from what they choose to show. And we’re free to read what we like! Of course, depending on what the papers are allowed to print, what they chose to ignore and what books are not censored. Still, we’re free to say what we like. Unless it’s deemed politically incorrect or inciting terrorism. But we’re at least free to do what we want with our money. The fruit of our labours. As long as we declare it of course. And pay numerous taxes on it.
I don’t blame people for wanting to live what they might call ’simply’ (even though by definition, there is no simplicity to modern life). The path of least resistance is indeed the most tempting. As Christopher Brookmyre puts it, let advertising do their dreaming for them. He has a point. Even the lottery fantasy is just a unique product being pushed by Camelot. That can be the nice dream but it’s alright here thanks very much. We’re doing ok they demand. A jail that needs no walls because the inmates have been brainwashed into believing they want to be there.
But what to do. What to do. Sit and think. Think and sit. Pontificate, muse and deliberate some more. I know, we all know that you can’t drop out completely. Whatever that might entail. Henrik Ibsen said “to be oneself is to kill oneself”. You have to compromise, that’s clear. So why fight it at all? I think some people find it easier to paint by numbers than others, it’s just a case of how much you’re prepared to compromise on the given issue, that being your life. Or maybe more importantly, it’s realising how much you are already compromising and deciding to take back what’s rightfully yours.
This modern living epidemic never stops, but then again who want it to? Everybody’s happy; happy painting their lives by numbers. Brother, ignorance is bliss. Amen to that. Why think about who you aren’t helping or what you might be contributing to when you can watch Eastenders in High definition and have a quiet life with a bit of cash in your pocket? I don’t blame them.
But I can’t do it. I can’t feel that contentment. I feel at odds with just existing. I love life but I’m smothered by middle class guilt, overwhelmed by societal expectation, shackled by possessions and trapped by my own neurosis. I literally don’t understand how I should be living. Part of me, the old, healthy, drinking, fingers in ears me thinks that worrying about who you bank with, where your food comes from, what you give to charity and how much you explore your so called yearning soul is so exclusively a middle class privilege and is, well frankly fuck off embarrassing. What a bunch of hippy bollocks. But another part of me, the part that’s always been there, the part that makes me think I’m a sell out moron every morning my alarm goes off, the part of me that feels life is so precious and scarce that I want to violently shake strangers in the street and scream at the top of my lungs “DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?!” realises that it’s the most important decision in your life… how to actually live.
What is life if you’re not true to yourself, or you’re not brave enough to act on your instincts and cast aside everything that means nothing? Possessions. A secure job. I hate them all. Hate them, hate them, hate them. I feel their weight on my shoulders, the burden increasing every day as I wonder what to do. How to “get out”. How to live ethically, morally, truthful and most of all how to live free.
The truth is, as humans, most, if not all of us don’t want freedom. We have enough thank you very much. We’re free to go anywhere we like! Well, passports permitting. And money. Which is in turn dependent on employers. And then there’s the airline schedules of course. And the limited stay based on visa documentation (or lack of it). Well, we’re free to watch what we want on TV. Well, apart from what they choose to show. And we’re free to read what we like! Of course, depending on what the papers are allowed to print, what they chose to ignore and what books are not censored. Still, we’re free to say what we like. Unless it’s deemed politically incorrect or inciting terrorism. But we’re at least free to do what we want with our money. The fruit of our labours. As long as we declare it of course. And pay numerous taxes on it.
I don’t blame people for wanting to live what they might call ’simply’ (even though by definition, there is no simplicity to modern life). The path of least resistance is indeed the most tempting. As Christopher Brookmyre puts it, let advertising do their dreaming for them. He has a point. Even the lottery fantasy is just a unique product being pushed by Camelot. That can be the nice dream but it’s alright here thanks very much. We’re doing ok they demand. A jail that needs no walls because the inmates have been brainwashed into believing they want to be there.
But what to do. What to do. Sit and think. Think and sit. Pontificate, muse and deliberate some more. I know, we all know that you can’t drop out completely. Whatever that might entail. Henrik Ibsen said “to be oneself is to kill oneself”. You have to compromise, that’s clear. So why fight it at all? I think some people find it easier to paint by numbers than others, it’s just a case of how much you’re prepared to compromise on the given issue, that being your life. Or maybe more importantly, it’s realising how much you are already compromising and deciding to take back what’s rightfully yours.
THOUGHTS: WHAT IS THE REALLY PURPOSE OF WORK?
We’re taught from a very early age that striving to work harder is the better way to live, the honest way to live, the *right* way to live. There is a societal fetish with work, but of course as a population we can’t admit this. We can’t all suddenly gather round and announce that working into oblivion is a fruitless fallacy that contributes nothing to us growing as humans on a collective or individual level. I’ve always wanted to know the end result of an activity whenI was young. What’s the end result (well not much really), why we learning this at school, what’s the point, why am I forced to live by working five days a week? You work hard, then what? A promotion? Then what? More hard work. Then what? What’s the end result? A wasted existence. I’ve never ‘got’ the point of working hard.
Nobody ever reaches the point where they say “ha, I’ve done all my work, I’m finished, excellent, I think I’ll stop now and have a nice cup of tea”. The few who do are normally entrepreneurs who get lucky with a single product and don’t particularly like working anyway; not the Richard Branson types who have a megalomanic need to continue buying up every conceivable product and service and slap VIRGIN on it. Really again, what’s the point? How’s that possibly doing any good for anyone? Even Branson, it’s not as if he needs the money (I think he might be a little mental, I mean, look at his grin).
Work is nothing but a distraction. One argument is that encouraging it is a way to keep the population occupied. Too tired to care about politics or question authority? Too busy to notice your rights being eroded? Never mind, you’re an honest person, you’re a hard working individual and you keep quiet and play the game. Shame you’re not going to get much out of it, but at least you won’t be a nuisance. Then again, the sad reality is that we have nothing else to do. Or at least, we believe this is the case. So work consumes our lives and we add false value to it, pretending that spending 40 hours a week behind a desk is somehow a worthwhile existence as your life ends one minute at a time.
I refuse to allow myself to believe that working is nothing more than a waste of time. There is a middle ground between dedicating your adult life to grafting and sitting around eating Cheerios whilst watching hotWomen Acknowledging the waste in your life can make you miserable, but at least it’s some form of resistance, and more importantly, it’s the first step to taking back what’s rightfully yours… your life.
Nobody ever reaches the point where they say “ha, I’ve done all my work, I’m finished, excellent, I think I’ll stop now and have a nice cup of tea”. The few who do are normally entrepreneurs who get lucky with a single product and don’t particularly like working anyway; not the Richard Branson types who have a megalomanic need to continue buying up every conceivable product and service and slap VIRGIN on it. Really again, what’s the point? How’s that possibly doing any good for anyone? Even Branson, it’s not as if he needs the money (I think he might be a little mental, I mean, look at his grin).
Work is nothing but a distraction. One argument is that encouraging it is a way to keep the population occupied. Too tired to care about politics or question authority? Too busy to notice your rights being eroded? Never mind, you’re an honest person, you’re a hard working individual and you keep quiet and play the game. Shame you’re not going to get much out of it, but at least you won’t be a nuisance. Then again, the sad reality is that we have nothing else to do. Or at least, we believe this is the case. So work consumes our lives and we add false value to it, pretending that spending 40 hours a week behind a desk is somehow a worthwhile existence as your life ends one minute at a time.
I refuse to allow myself to believe that working is nothing more than a waste of time. There is a middle ground between dedicating your adult life to grafting and sitting around eating Cheerios whilst watching hotWomen Acknowledging the waste in your life can make you miserable, but at least it’s some form of resistance, and more importantly, it’s the first step to taking back what’s rightfully yours… your life.
THOUGHTS: THE TRUTH ABOUT BEAUTIFUL WOMAN, RELATIONSHIP AND MEN (PART I)
What is it about beautiful women that drives me so insane? Heidi Klum is simply amazing. Christy Turlington…perfection. And all the rest, just unbelievable. When I look at these women I begin to feel aggression and feel like cussing–”God damn she is gorgeous!” Of course this is all evolution and the physical and chemical structure of my mind. But in spite of this knowledge, I am amazed at what I feel when I see a very good looking woman. All you guys out there can relate, I am sure. I feel the adrenaline rush every time I see such a site. My fists clench and my mind is running through a self-referential loop. It is like the site of a beautiful woman bypasses my thoughts completely and my brain processes what I see directly into physical reaction. I feel myself wanting to launch into a lesson to women about the way men think, right now, but I am going to resist.
There are two types of beautiful women: the woman you see and immediately want to fuck, and the woman that you see and want to love. In either case, similar emotions, I guess you could call them, run through my body. There are women out there that have figures that fit very specifically into the image of the woman that is so sexually desirable that the idea of love would always be overridden. These females are doomed to be taken for granted as thinking, respectable people. It goes without saying that there are exceptions. A man that happens to bag such a sexual find might very well fall in love with her, but there will be a vastly more powerful urge to copulate than spend ‘quality’ time. Again, I feel the urge to launch into the lesson to women. I’ll touch on one idea: it is wrong to assume that because men have such a one-track mind when it comes to sex that he has no boundaries, self control, or respect for women. Assuming that implies a disrespect for men. But this man who gets to bang such a powerfully attractive creature will grow used to his situation, as do all people in aging relationships, and this whole dynamic will fade. Now the woman that I see and immediately want to love is something special. She is so beautiful that the same physical response occurs, except, the thoughts that flash inside the mind are not of bending her over. She is the girl that you want to hug and have as a companion. She is the girl that you could look over at at any time and feel like the luckiest man on Earth. She could be asleep with her stinky morning breath and hair in a mess, and you would still be thinking how lucky you are. She is the girl that can look at you for the smallest fraction of a second and you will feel special. Of course this girl is not exempt from the sexual objectification of the male mind. Men want sex. That is as simple as it gets. But all humans are beings of emotions and thoughts. Man oh man I want to meet that gorgeous loveable woman. Thinking like that does not mean that the ‘average’ girl does not stand a chance. It is the average girl that is more likely to fit the bill. It is the girl that slips ‘under the radar’ that I am looking for. The good looking girl that has not been corrupted by the attention good looking girls get too much of. The attention is what leads girls away from independence, education, equality. Anyway, I’ve lost the direction of this entry and the motivation to continue.
There's a fine line between feeling insecure - and feeling challenged! MEN ARE HUNTERS and a smart woman knows this! Your smile and F-factor (fuckability - the overall physical package) will draw him in. Your warmth, confidence, smarts and happiness about life in general will keep him there. Alot of women are focused more on the physical aspect and less on being the interesting, sensual, engaging person that real men are looking for! 'looks are skin deep,' and to that I say, AGREED! Smart men know this and once attracted, they get by the looks pretty quickly - and want to know more. Smart women know this too -- they know their looks ARE their calling card - JUST this. Women come in all shapes and sizes, thank God, because so do men! 'Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder' . . . and there's lots of folks, both men and women, doing the beholding!
There's no guy who decides to be with a woman who he doesn't find sexually attractive but has a wonderful personality. Men only pick women they'd like to have sex with.Woman know the only reason most men act so nice is because they have no other way of making them interested in you. And the reason most men act so mean is because they're trying to hide that they want and/or you think you can make us underestimate our own worth. None of your bullshit will work on a woman with experience with men, and beautiful women see it all.
Women have been exploited sence time has begun. The main problem is that their are women out there whom line up to be exploited. The money is good, and alot of women just show off their body. Then there are those who get paid to perform in Adult XXX movies. Women hold a certain power over men, and being a man, I have curiosity's as well. But im not out looking for a cheap thrill. As long as there is a man or woman looking at these photo's, or movies; then there will always be someone performing, or showing it off.We as a society are shallow minded, and just generally looking to be happy, and satisfied
I know its hard to accept, but it's human nature to look at other asthetically pleasing humans. I check out hot women all the time and if a straight guy ogles her, he's probably thinking, "Wow, she is so smokin hot, I wonder if she'd have sex with me?" - THIS is an observations are based on looks ONLY, and exist within a vacuum where reality, responsibilities, and current relationships hold no influence... it's like a theory: 'would she sleep with me if both of us were single.'
But men are not two dimensional... their attraction to women is just as complex What gets him going isn't just a tight ass or perfect proportions, it might be the cute way you laugh, the way you smell in the morning, the way you kiss, the cute way your butt shimmies when you walk, or a hundred other things that have to come together to really turn his crank. You have them, she doesn't.
Most women have a "dream guy" - he has a look and a set of behaviors that she would LOVE to meet, but as they get older we realize that's just fantasy. He probably picks at his toes before bed and eats too many onions to REALLY be their dream guy. Plus, his laugh is annoying and he's far too obsessed with his hair. You get the picture.
I dont think many people realize that this beauty thing they keep chasing is only temporary. As soon as you think you've found the finest thing around, someone finer will come along and make you rethink your whole situation. Beauty can be easily compromised. When the poop hits the fan, a person wants to know if their partner will ride storms out with them or if they'll bail. A person wants to know that if they become less glamorous, their partner will love them and not leave them for the next peice of eye candy. People who place SOOO MUCH value on having a trophy wife/husband, usually are very clueless and havent been through enough to know whats important because they think that when bills need to be paid and children need to be fed, that good looks are going to help. They wont (not unless she sells herself somehow.)
Heres the big difference between female shallowness and male shallowness. Men get blamed for being “visual” or “shallow” but in reality women, WOMAN are much more shallow. Let me explain. Women are the choosers AND rejectors. They are the selective ones. Men aren’t. Men have an infinite number of sperm. Women a finite number of eggs. By nature, women are much more selective. That is why it matters what a man does for a living. How much money he makes. How much power he has etc etc. But women are also JUST as visual as men.
But here is the difference. Men mostly look at women’s bodies. Biologically speaking. It’s almost subconscious. Scientists say it’s the hip to waist ratio that signals fertility. A high hip to waist ratio can be found in women of ALL shapes and sizes and why men are attracted to MOST women. Most women have this sexual power over men. Even average or ugly women can have this power. All that is needed is a shapely figure with the appropriate hip to waist ratio. Or large boobs. It takes VERY LITTLE to get a man excited visually. So yeah…you could say men are shallow. I know alot of women like to say that. But in reality men are much more forgiving of women since they find MOST women sexual beings and will go ga ga over them.
So even an average or ugly woman can work out her body if she is overweight and become a sexual being.
I know women don’t like to be “objectified”, but the reality is that they don’t want to be so by ugly or average men.
Women on the other hand only look at men with handsome faces as “HOT” or “SEXY” for the most part. Sure money and power can blur that a bit, but in todays age of equality and the media….women want it all. Looks AND Money/Power.
An average or ugly guy(unlike an average or ugly woman) can hit the gym all he wants to no avail. He can sculpt his body into a Greek Statue and he will NEVER be considered “HOT” by the masses of women. For women it’s all about a man’s face.
When groups of women get around and talk about a “HOT” guy…it’s ALWAYS referring to his face.
Unlike a body, a face can’t be changed. So men have it FAR FAR worse than women, and are basically less shallow and more inclusive in what they find attractive. Like I said, MOST women no matter what their face looks like can be SEXY to a WIDE group of men. It doesn’t work the other way around.
All those ugly and average guys hitting the gym should just give up.
The flip side is that many women mistakenly think men want supermodels. So they plaster on the make up and buy the latest fashions….when in reality, men don’t give a shit about all that. It is such a myth. Men find women sexy PERIOD. Not because of what they wear or the make up they use to cover their faces.
The truth is that women do all that to compete with OTHER women. The fashion industry feeds off this competition and is dominated by gay men who WISH they were women.
Real men find women sexy because of their natural femininity.
So men have it much worse in my opinion. Where most women can be sexy and have sexual power over men….very few men enjoy this same kind of animal magnetism. A man has to have a chiseled handsome or symmetrical face to pull off that kind of power. You’ve all seen it before. A guy with a great body but ugly face can walk into a room and get ZERO attention or reaction from the ladies. But have a guy with an extremely handsome face walk into the same room with an ok body…and the women will practically fall all over themselves trying to flirt with him.
Yet if a woman with an average or even ugly face walked into a room but had a fly body or just big boobs….men would fall all over themselves to get to her.
It’s easy to change a body. Very hard to change a face. So most average men and all ugly men suffer in frustration while their average or ugly counter parts enjoy the joys of sex and attraction.
The great equalizer is AGE. 40 may be the new 30 now for women. And women can be sexy much longer. But eventually ALL women will “hit the wall” so to speak and lose that power they once enjoyed over men. Plastic surgery can only go so far, most men prefer the natural beauty. They don’t want overly made up women. And women who make the mistake of trying to stop time with plastic surgery run the danger of entering “freakville” if they are not careful. Excercise and proper diet go much farther in staving off the effects of time than do numerous face lifts and botox that only turn women into walking freakshows. Don’t do it ladies. There comes a time to let it go and grow old gracefully.
Women who never develop a personality and only relied on their looks growing up can turn into real angry bitter people. A little humility goes a long way too. I’ve seen many a HOT women snag the HOT guy only to be left for a younger HOTTER trophy down the road. Life can be very lonely when you only see beauty as skin deep. Shallowness is all well and good when you’re young, because like every generation, you think you’re gonna live forever. But time spares no one. And eventually the “power” you once enjoyed in your youth will be gone. When the music stops, will you have a chair to sit in?
That is why I find women who enjoy their femininity but aren’t attached to their looks or the looks of men the most attractive. Women who aren’t afraid to walk around without makeup(I have ALWAYS found the women I’ve dated MOST sexy when they first wake up in the morning).
I guess I’ve gone off on a tangent. I guess we can all be shallow. But I felt compelled to point out that men aren’t as bad as women say. Yeah we’re visual creatures….but I think we include a MUCH wider variety of what we think is sexy than women do. To us, MOST women are sexy for just being women. Men really get a bad rap. But women are MUCH more selective and throw out a much smaller net when it comes to what they find SEXY.
Like I said, the average or ugly dude will NEVER enjoy the same kind of sexual power that an average or ugly woman does. An ugly or average dudes best hope to even come close to that is to be in a Rock Band or to be Rich. But even then…it’s not really the same.
I think most men would LOVE to be objectified by women. Oggled over and lusted after. Women say they hate this…but really it’s that they don’t want to be lusted over by average or ugly guys.
Of course I’m talking generally here and only about look. But real love is much deeper and less superficial. ALL beauty fades. It’s nice to enjoy youth and beauty while you have it, but cultivating a more well rounded and deeper sense of love is key to true happiness.
Women are actually more shallow than men. Most guys just want someone decent looking, someone that will go to the local sports bar w/ them and eat hot wings like one of the guys from time time. A good looking woman however wants it all, money, looks, social status, a comedian personality, the list is endless. What American women expect from a man now is incredible. Being a good looking man that could be a loving partner forever isn’t enough anymore for American woman. I blame television/movies partially. This all ends up hurting the women in the end though…as many women are actually very unhappy deep down inside even though they may be driving around in some fancy sports car that their rich fiance bought them. Ladies, good looking or not, if you can find a guy thats in shape, decent looking, faithful and loving to you, earns some money, your lucky enough right there.
There are alot of women out there who fabricate this idea of their "perfect" man in their minds, and since they have set that ideal so high, no man will ever meet up with that standard. Their ideal might be one of a man driving a certain car, making over 6 figures a year, treat them like a queen, looking like Denzel Washington or Shemar Moore, and possibly of a specific religious faith. And the man who might be right for them might meet those standards might meet them all, but instead of looking like Denzel, they look like Tito Jackson. Or they may only make 5 figures a year & push a Grand Am instead of a Benz & 6 figures. Or they may be wrapped up with baggage from a previous relationship, and project the faults of the previous guy onto every prospective man they come across. Ladies should learn to set alot of that "ideal perfect" BS aside, and judge each man specifically for what he is and does. You never know what you may find when you open your eyes to everyone in it.
THIS IS WHAT A WOMAN WROTE IN ONE OF COMMENT IN THE BLOG:
The ugly and average guys should NOT want or chase the hot girl, because there isn't enough hot girls, so why should they try?
For example: Why should a retail clerk expect to date the CEO of a company? They aren't similiar....
Should the average guy cry his whole entire life because he doesn't own a million dollar house? Should he just give up and then be homeless?
Why not get an average house and enjoy life????
This is about people having UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS.
Get over yourself ! The tv and movie industry, porn and sex magazines have sole you a lie. The lie is that there is an unending supply of hot girls that are just waiting for you to trick them into letting you bang them. OPEN YOUR EYES, that's not the way life is.
Select someone like yourself! People have been doing it for years, that's how you were brought into this world.
So, in a nutshell, don't worry about the theorizing... just concentrate on reality.
There are two types of beautiful women: the woman you see and immediately want to fuck, and the woman that you see and want to love. In either case, similar emotions, I guess you could call them, run through my body. There are women out there that have figures that fit very specifically into the image of the woman that is so sexually desirable that the idea of love would always be overridden. These females are doomed to be taken for granted as thinking, respectable people. It goes without saying that there are exceptions. A man that happens to bag such a sexual find might very well fall in love with her, but there will be a vastly more powerful urge to copulate than spend ‘quality’ time. Again, I feel the urge to launch into the lesson to women. I’ll touch on one idea: it is wrong to assume that because men have such a one-track mind when it comes to sex that he has no boundaries, self control, or respect for women. Assuming that implies a disrespect for men. But this man who gets to bang such a powerfully attractive creature will grow used to his situation, as do all people in aging relationships, and this whole dynamic will fade. Now the woman that I see and immediately want to love is something special. She is so beautiful that the same physical response occurs, except, the thoughts that flash inside the mind are not of bending her over. She is the girl that you want to hug and have as a companion. She is the girl that you could look over at at any time and feel like the luckiest man on Earth. She could be asleep with her stinky morning breath and hair in a mess, and you would still be thinking how lucky you are. She is the girl that can look at you for the smallest fraction of a second and you will feel special. Of course this girl is not exempt from the sexual objectification of the male mind. Men want sex. That is as simple as it gets. But all humans are beings of emotions and thoughts. Man oh man I want to meet that gorgeous loveable woman. Thinking like that does not mean that the ‘average’ girl does not stand a chance. It is the average girl that is more likely to fit the bill. It is the girl that slips ‘under the radar’ that I am looking for. The good looking girl that has not been corrupted by the attention good looking girls get too much of. The attention is what leads girls away from independence, education, equality. Anyway, I’ve lost the direction of this entry and the motivation to continue.
There's a fine line between feeling insecure - and feeling challenged! MEN ARE HUNTERS and a smart woman knows this! Your smile and F-factor (fuckability - the overall physical package) will draw him in. Your warmth, confidence, smarts and happiness about life in general will keep him there. Alot of women are focused more on the physical aspect and less on being the interesting, sensual, engaging person that real men are looking for! 'looks are skin deep,' and to that I say, AGREED! Smart men know this and once attracted, they get by the looks pretty quickly - and want to know more. Smart women know this too -- they know their looks ARE their calling card - JUST this. Women come in all shapes and sizes, thank God, because so do men! 'Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder' . . . and there's lots of folks, both men and women, doing the beholding!
There's no guy who decides to be with a woman who he doesn't find sexually attractive but has a wonderful personality. Men only pick women they'd like to have sex with.Woman know the only reason most men act so nice is because they have no other way of making them interested in you. And the reason most men act so mean is because they're trying to hide that they want and/or you think you can make us underestimate our own worth. None of your bullshit will work on a woman with experience with men, and beautiful women see it all.
Women have been exploited sence time has begun. The main problem is that their are women out there whom line up to be exploited. The money is good, and alot of women just show off their body. Then there are those who get paid to perform in Adult XXX movies. Women hold a certain power over men, and being a man, I have curiosity's as well. But im not out looking for a cheap thrill. As long as there is a man or woman looking at these photo's, or movies; then there will always be someone performing, or showing it off.We as a society are shallow minded, and just generally looking to be happy, and satisfied
I know its hard to accept, but it's human nature to look at other asthetically pleasing humans. I check out hot women all the time and if a straight guy ogles her, he's probably thinking, "Wow, she is so smokin hot, I wonder if she'd have sex with me?" - THIS is an observations are based on looks ONLY, and exist within a vacuum where reality, responsibilities, and current relationships hold no influence... it's like a theory: 'would she sleep with me if both of us were single.'
But men are not two dimensional... their attraction to women is just as complex What gets him going isn't just a tight ass or perfect proportions, it might be the cute way you laugh, the way you smell in the morning, the way you kiss, the cute way your butt shimmies when you walk, or a hundred other things that have to come together to really turn his crank. You have them, she doesn't.
Most women have a "dream guy" - he has a look and a set of behaviors that she would LOVE to meet, but as they get older we realize that's just fantasy. He probably picks at his toes before bed and eats too many onions to REALLY be their dream guy. Plus, his laugh is annoying and he's far too obsessed with his hair. You get the picture.
I dont think many people realize that this beauty thing they keep chasing is only temporary. As soon as you think you've found the finest thing around, someone finer will come along and make you rethink your whole situation. Beauty can be easily compromised. When the poop hits the fan, a person wants to know if their partner will ride storms out with them or if they'll bail. A person wants to know that if they become less glamorous, their partner will love them and not leave them for the next peice of eye candy. People who place SOOO MUCH value on having a trophy wife/husband, usually are very clueless and havent been through enough to know whats important because they think that when bills need to be paid and children need to be fed, that good looks are going to help. They wont (not unless she sells herself somehow.)
Heres the big difference between female shallowness and male shallowness. Men get blamed for being “visual” or “shallow” but in reality women, WOMAN are much more shallow. Let me explain. Women are the choosers AND rejectors. They are the selective ones. Men aren’t. Men have an infinite number of sperm. Women a finite number of eggs. By nature, women are much more selective. That is why it matters what a man does for a living. How much money he makes. How much power he has etc etc. But women are also JUST as visual as men.
But here is the difference. Men mostly look at women’s bodies. Biologically speaking. It’s almost subconscious. Scientists say it’s the hip to waist ratio that signals fertility. A high hip to waist ratio can be found in women of ALL shapes and sizes and why men are attracted to MOST women. Most women have this sexual power over men. Even average or ugly women can have this power. All that is needed is a shapely figure with the appropriate hip to waist ratio. Or large boobs. It takes VERY LITTLE to get a man excited visually. So yeah…you could say men are shallow. I know alot of women like to say that. But in reality men are much more forgiving of women since they find MOST women sexual beings and will go ga ga over them.
So even an average or ugly woman can work out her body if she is overweight and become a sexual being.
I know women don’t like to be “objectified”, but the reality is that they don’t want to be so by ugly or average men.
Women on the other hand only look at men with handsome faces as “HOT” or “SEXY” for the most part. Sure money and power can blur that a bit, but in todays age of equality and the media….women want it all. Looks AND Money/Power.
An average or ugly guy(unlike an average or ugly woman) can hit the gym all he wants to no avail. He can sculpt his body into a Greek Statue and he will NEVER be considered “HOT” by the masses of women. For women it’s all about a man’s face.
When groups of women get around and talk about a “HOT” guy…it’s ALWAYS referring to his face.
Unlike a body, a face can’t be changed. So men have it FAR FAR worse than women, and are basically less shallow and more inclusive in what they find attractive. Like I said, MOST women no matter what their face looks like can be SEXY to a WIDE group of men. It doesn’t work the other way around.
All those ugly and average guys hitting the gym should just give up.
The flip side is that many women mistakenly think men want supermodels. So they plaster on the make up and buy the latest fashions….when in reality, men don’t give a shit about all that. It is such a myth. Men find women sexy PERIOD. Not because of what they wear or the make up they use to cover their faces.
The truth is that women do all that to compete with OTHER women. The fashion industry feeds off this competition and is dominated by gay men who WISH they were women.
Real men find women sexy because of their natural femininity.
So men have it much worse in my opinion. Where most women can be sexy and have sexual power over men….very few men enjoy this same kind of animal magnetism. A man has to have a chiseled handsome or symmetrical face to pull off that kind of power. You’ve all seen it before. A guy with a great body but ugly face can walk into a room and get ZERO attention or reaction from the ladies. But have a guy with an extremely handsome face walk into the same room with an ok body…and the women will practically fall all over themselves trying to flirt with him.
Yet if a woman with an average or even ugly face walked into a room but had a fly body or just big boobs….men would fall all over themselves to get to her.
It’s easy to change a body. Very hard to change a face. So most average men and all ugly men suffer in frustration while their average or ugly counter parts enjoy the joys of sex and attraction.
The great equalizer is AGE. 40 may be the new 30 now for women. And women can be sexy much longer. But eventually ALL women will “hit the wall” so to speak and lose that power they once enjoyed over men. Plastic surgery can only go so far, most men prefer the natural beauty. They don’t want overly made up women. And women who make the mistake of trying to stop time with plastic surgery run the danger of entering “freakville” if they are not careful. Excercise and proper diet go much farther in staving off the effects of time than do numerous face lifts and botox that only turn women into walking freakshows. Don’t do it ladies. There comes a time to let it go and grow old gracefully.
Women who never develop a personality and only relied on their looks growing up can turn into real angry bitter people. A little humility goes a long way too. I’ve seen many a HOT women snag the HOT guy only to be left for a younger HOTTER trophy down the road. Life can be very lonely when you only see beauty as skin deep. Shallowness is all well and good when you’re young, because like every generation, you think you’re gonna live forever. But time spares no one. And eventually the “power” you once enjoyed in your youth will be gone. When the music stops, will you have a chair to sit in?
That is why I find women who enjoy their femininity but aren’t attached to their looks or the looks of men the most attractive. Women who aren’t afraid to walk around without makeup(I have ALWAYS found the women I’ve dated MOST sexy when they first wake up in the morning).
I guess I’ve gone off on a tangent. I guess we can all be shallow. But I felt compelled to point out that men aren’t as bad as women say. Yeah we’re visual creatures….but I think we include a MUCH wider variety of what we think is sexy than women do. To us, MOST women are sexy for just being women. Men really get a bad rap. But women are MUCH more selective and throw out a much smaller net when it comes to what they find SEXY.
Like I said, the average or ugly dude will NEVER enjoy the same kind of sexual power that an average or ugly woman does. An ugly or average dudes best hope to even come close to that is to be in a Rock Band or to be Rich. But even then…it’s not really the same.
I think most men would LOVE to be objectified by women. Oggled over and lusted after. Women say they hate this…but really it’s that they don’t want to be lusted over by average or ugly guys.
Of course I’m talking generally here and only about look. But real love is much deeper and less superficial. ALL beauty fades. It’s nice to enjoy youth and beauty while you have it, but cultivating a more well rounded and deeper sense of love is key to true happiness.
Women are actually more shallow than men. Most guys just want someone decent looking, someone that will go to the local sports bar w/ them and eat hot wings like one of the guys from time time. A good looking woman however wants it all, money, looks, social status, a comedian personality, the list is endless. What American women expect from a man now is incredible. Being a good looking man that could be a loving partner forever isn’t enough anymore for American woman. I blame television/movies partially. This all ends up hurting the women in the end though…as many women are actually very unhappy deep down inside even though they may be driving around in some fancy sports car that their rich fiance bought them. Ladies, good looking or not, if you can find a guy thats in shape, decent looking, faithful and loving to you, earns some money, your lucky enough right there.
There are alot of women out there who fabricate this idea of their "perfect" man in their minds, and since they have set that ideal so high, no man will ever meet up with that standard. Their ideal might be one of a man driving a certain car, making over 6 figures a year, treat them like a queen, looking like Denzel Washington or Shemar Moore, and possibly of a specific religious faith. And the man who might be right for them might meet those standards might meet them all, but instead of looking like Denzel, they look like Tito Jackson. Or they may only make 5 figures a year & push a Grand Am instead of a Benz & 6 figures. Or they may be wrapped up with baggage from a previous relationship, and project the faults of the previous guy onto every prospective man they come across. Ladies should learn to set alot of that "ideal perfect" BS aside, and judge each man specifically for what he is and does. You never know what you may find when you open your eyes to everyone in it.
THIS IS WHAT A WOMAN WROTE IN ONE OF COMMENT IN THE BLOG:
The ugly and average guys should NOT want or chase the hot girl, because there isn't enough hot girls, so why should they try?
For example: Why should a retail clerk expect to date the CEO of a company? They aren't similiar....
Should the average guy cry his whole entire life because he doesn't own a million dollar house? Should he just give up and then be homeless?
Why not get an average house and enjoy life????
This is about people having UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS.
Get over yourself ! The tv and movie industry, porn and sex magazines have sole you a lie. The lie is that there is an unending supply of hot girls that are just waiting for you to trick them into letting you bang them. OPEN YOUR EYES, that's not the way life is.
Select someone like yourself! People have been doing it for years, that's how you were brought into this world.
So, in a nutshell, don't worry about the theorizing... just concentrate on reality.
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