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Rated: GC · Other · Philosophy · #1742417
Stream of Consciousness. Brutally Honest. I wrote this over a year ago.
        Should I just cut my fucking dick off?  Yeah.  Yeah.  Cut it-What the hell am I thinking?  But still… should I?  Maybe it will do me some good.
         You see it’s there protruding out and every once in a while, well every couple of days or so it asks you, “Hey don’t you want to have a fucking good time?”  The offer is tempting but sometimes I fight it, trying not to give in.  It usually wins though.  After that, I have to clean up its remnants with a tissue, but sometimes that stuff is so sticky that it doesn’t fully come off until you take a shower.  And it’s got that smell too, ugh!…
         There’s other times where its not even asking for it and it will still win.  Damn thing would sure be good in a fight against myself.  It would win because I would ultimately have to give in.  Fuck!  It’s force is relenting, like an ebb at the back of the mind never seeming to go away.  Some traces of it are always apparent somewhere.
         You know what I feel the problem is.  People say its horrible thing-like some fucking mortal sin-that make you into a much worse person.  Yet, those same people also say it is healthy for you.  What’s the fucking deal?  Ok so they say it’s healthy yet they are so unwilling to talk about it.  It has become obscene in our modern day, yet we’re okay with a TV anti-smoking commercial that shows a brain getting cut in half with blood seeping out.  Or stretching somebody’s eyeballs out to show their deteriorated eye vessels.  I’m sorry but I don’t want to fucking see that!  That doesn’t help me not want to smoke that just makes me want to look away so I don’t have to see the atrocious sight.
         That’s what’s out there, right in the public domain, even on channels that younger people watch-sliced brains and fucked-up eyeballs, yet we’re afraid and ashamed and even mortified to talk about the thing that got us here.  That thing that we think about everyday.  People have told me they don’t, but they are full of shit…ok maybe somebody before puberty isn’t thinking quite this way yet.
         There’s another problem here as well.  Sure I get the whole marriage and love thing but what’s the fucking deal with actually getting there.  You have to play a whole fucking game of hard-to-get and play-it-off-like-you’re-not-interested.  The worst thing to do in this situation is to show someone that you want them.  You have to imply it and make it subtle.  You have to show a person you want them by giving the impression that you don’t want them at all, like you’d be completely ok if you let them pass by.  What the fuck?  That doesn’t make any fucking sense.
         To keep yourself from wanting them you have to indulge yourself in that aforementioned folly.  That thing which people look down on will keep you sane.  It will keep you fucking going.  It will keep you from fucking up…or will it? 
         You’ve now taken away that thing that makes you want to cling on them and ride them, and you’ve ultimately done what’s been asked of you by that  fucking precedent that’s somehow been set-give off the feeling that you don’t want them.  I think now they might want you to want them.  So according to this, you have to not want them while wanting them.  Doesn’t this make you feel apathetic and not give a fuck at all?  It’s no wonder why people fuck and think nothing of it.  They go to one of their friends and say, “I fucked her and it was great…look at that girl over their in the black skirt.  I’d bang the shit out of her.”
         I look down at it and ask it in my head, “Would this be better?  Would this be better if I could reach down and do what I want someone else to do?  If I could do it, would I even care or want anyone else to do it?
         That shit really messes me up sometimes.  I’ve even told people that I’ve thought about doing this and they look at me like I’m out of this fucking universe.  Sure they haven’t thought about it too or wouldn’t revel at the chance if they could do it.  What bullshitters?…
         It’s troubling, really troubling how this has come to be such a bad thing.  Maybe it was always a bad thing, but maybe not.  I’m pretty sure some caveman wouldn’t have thought twice about doing it, of course, they probably wouldn’t have thought twice about raping somebody dry, but that’s completely in another fucking ballpark.  So why be bothered by it now?  Why have we taken something simple and turned it into something complicated?     
           And we make such a big deal about it.  Oh, Tiger Woods is such a terrible man.  Well, I did hear at one point that his wife knew about his “promiscuity”-that’s what it’s been called, though I can’t say I fully agree-before getting into a marriage with him.  Well then she could have left him then.  Some people, well I guess the better term to use is critics because they believe themselves to be so qualified on the subject, have even speculated that Tiger Woods is a sex-addict.  With this, I disagree.  He had the opportunity to fuck all those woman so he did.  If one of the people who called him a sex addict had even remotely the slightest chance to be with the same amount of women as he was, they’d jump at the chance.  I would…maybe not jump, but it wouldn’t be a far stretch for me to say that I’d most likely do it if I had the shot.  That marriage and love thing could get in the way, so I might not even do it at all and neither would those other people.  Maybe Tiger Woods does like his dick being ridden on way too much?  Maybe, but I think that would only be obtuse on my part.  There’s much more of the picture to look at and even alternatively, much less.
         …Fuck it!  I don’t need to get worked up about something that many people call bad.  I don’t view it as bad.  Though, I still think about the possibility of those people being right.  And if so, how or why is it bad?  I don’t feel like worrying about that at the moment. 
         I feel like when it calls on me to make a mess, I do ultimately feel better.  No matter what time of the day, night, morning, evening, afternoon, it does provide me with some piece of mind, even if it only is for a short while.  I can’t figure out why things are the way they are and why people in general hate it so much.  I do also think about the possibilities if I and others were capable beings.  Things could be drastically different. 
         I guess after making all these messes, with or without the aid of another, I’ll figure these things out, eventually.  I could be right…or not. 
© Copyright 2011 Johnny Mazanko (wormhole77 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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