Why Reprise, with original comments

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Why, Why, Why?

 Once in a great while there are philosophical questions that grate at me until I find a way to answer them. Those questions range in type and depth, composition and importance, but they all deal with how I live my life. 

 The current occasion was based around this: “Why do I so desperately want to see, hear, and feel women in a way that society has deemed taboo?”

 Loosely translated into everyday speech, that boils down to, “Why am I a horndog?”

 I pondered this deeply for quite a while actually, and then I found an answer quite unexpectedly while showering after the state golf tournament. It isn’t about sex, it’s about sensation.

 Last year, I allowed myself to think that the entirety of a relationship could be based on the desire to interact on a physical, sexual level. I thought that you could somehow allow only your hormonal desire to engage in the acts necessary for procreation to drive how you interacted with one person of the opposite gender. That cost me a lot, possibly more than I realize.

 Since I realized that such an outlook was pure foolishness, I felt a distinct difference in my desires. I no longer looked at every woman as a target to be hit; yet my urges to strip away clothing, to touch, to taste, to hear, to smell, and to see women did not go away. They were still there, just as strong as ever.

 I began to wonder. Why did the desire to engage in intercourse vanish, while the others stayed on? Why is it that I’m still horny?

 There are two answers to that particular query. One is that even though my brain has realized that fornication is not really a good thing at this point, my hormones still think it’s a really awesome activity. That explanation may be completely accurate, but I’m not overly fond of it, as it portrays me as the slave of chemical reactions over which I have little or no control.

 The second answer is much romanticized, and perhaps that is why I prefer it. In any case, as a list, here it goes:

1. Seeing a woman out of her clothes isn’t about getting her naked. It’s about seeing her as she was made; perfect and beautiful with nothing hiding it.
2. Touching her isn’t getting to a certain base so you can brag to your friends. It’s feeling the subtle textures and curves of one of the greatest sculptures ever made.
3. Taste and scent are the two senses that most strongly stimulate our memory. When you see, touch, or hear something so perfect, wouldn’t you want to be able to recall it?
4. Hearing her may not make sense, but trust me, it’s profound. Listen to her voice, hear the rhythm of her heart and the rush of her breathing, then try to tell me that listening to her doesn’t do anything to you. 

 So there it is. Why I think I want to do the things I want to do. Maybe it makes sense, maybe it doesn’t. Maybe other guys will think it’s ridiculous, maybe it will cause them to have a revelation. That isn’t really the point. This was a thought in my head, and I felt like it needed to be shared. Maybe next time you have a deep thought, instead of shrugging it off, you should write it down.

Posted by Zarathustra2.0 at 8:11 PM

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5 comments:

1. 
   Elizabeth PerryMay 16, 2012 3:30 PM
   Random,
   
   I do not appreciate this blog, there are just some things you should keep to yourself but that is just my opinion. I think that you wouldn't be such a "horn dog" if you saw women as more than just a sexual object and saw them as human beings. Maybe you should work on that. (That just needed to be said)
   With Love,
   Elizabeth Perry
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   Replies

1. 
   Zarathustra2.0May 16, 2012 3:59 PM
   Elizabeth,
   
   If you followed the link from facebook, you were warned of the possibility of offense. If you came from your own Blogger account, then I'm sorry that I did not include a warning for you there. As you did read and were offended however, I suppose that I ought to respond with some defense of myself and my publication. First of all, I don't view any woman as "just a sexual object." They aren't something to be conquered or tamed. As I've already said, they aren't targets to be hit. Furthermore, this was not a commentary on women, this was a commentary on myself. By no means should anything in this post be interpreted to mean that I do not have the utmost respect for women as human beings. Still, I suppose there is always room for improvement, so I will keep working on it.
   With hope,
   Random Skevington
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2. 
   Zarathustra2.0May 16, 2012 4:09 PM
   P.S. I rather liked your comment before you edited out the part about my ego. It is rather large and I am trying to work on that.
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3. 
   Elizabeth PerryMay 16, 2012 11:03 PM
   Sometimes we don't mean for our words to come across a certain way, but they do anyway. Even though it wasn't your intention, this post derogatory and objectifying towards women. I am not offended, I am disgusted; some things should be kept to yourself and this is one of those things.
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4. 
   Zarathustra2.0May 17, 2012 7:09 AM
   Thank you for offering your opinion; just so you know, you're missing a word. I wouldn't have minded if you'd kept the whole opinion to yourself, but keeping just one word to yourself is rather ridiculous :) Enjoy your day.
   ReplyDelete

Save Tonight

Time marches on. It carries us onward with little thought for our desires and our fears, our dreams or our minute lives. As it moves, it forces us to move with it, regardless of how much we might want to be left behind. Yet every now and again, there is a moment so perfect that time seems to stop, or at least slow down, out of respect.

Such moments are incredibly rare, and if you’ve experienced one, then you are indeed blessed. If you haven’t, it’s important to remember that every moment is special, even if it isn’t perfect. Perhaps of greater consequence than the uniqueness of each moment, is the fact that every moment is precious. Regardless of whether we will remember it fondly or foully, what matters is that we will remember it. 

Our life spirals around, from the place where we are born, all the way in to where Death carries us from the world. This echoes the only Keynesian principle that I agree with, “In the long run, we’re all dead.” We are born, we will die. So what really matters is the things which come in between.

Whether it is the crescent shadows cast by a solar eclipse or the rushing headlights of Anaheim at ten o’clock at night, the moments you share with others will be how they catalog you. In turn, the instants which pass between you will be how you remember them.

As we grow, we have moments that we share with no one else. Oftentimes, it is because we are alone. Occasionally, it is because we withdraw our minds from those around us while we think deep thoughts. There is another kind of unshared moment, perhaps the most painful, but I think I’ll omit it for the sake of brevity.

In any case, these moments, shared or not, are the sum of our existence. Without regard for what happens in it, cherish each moment, because it’s a great time to be alive. Remember the instants, lest you forget yourself. And most importantly, save tonight, so that you’ll always know how precious your moments are.


--Random