Monday, November 26, 2007

La Vie Rêvée des Anges









I awoke again in a terror sometime in the dark early hours one morning last weekend. Every now and then I have these horrific dreams of torture and persecution (or just simple, execution-style shooting), and I’m pretty sure I know what they stem from.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to escape from under the guilt and self-loathing that come from knowing that I’ve engaged in unsafe, somewhat safe, not-quite-safe, probably-safe, almost-certainly-safe, or not-quite-honest sex. Maybe there really is no excuse, and maybe some things I’ve done in the past were nothing but purely selfish and careless. Sometimes the life of a eunuch almost seems desirable. Hyperbole aside: the minefield of “casual” sex and skirting around the “P-word” really don’t seem worth it on a logical level. I truly hate it. There but for the siren song of biology go I.

Note to the sexually active: if health-related questions are important to you, it’s probably not a good idea to broach them for the first time only when you and your partner are already (or milliseconds away from being) in flagrante delicto.

My solution going forward seems simple enough, doesn’t it? So I’ve heard.

6 comments:

Salty Miss Jill said...

Yes, that conversation should definatly happen before one's mind is clouded by lust. If only we were all so wise.

m00nchild said...

I have a feeling I know what you might be writing about. Am I right?

Even when I repeat the mantra: "It takes two ..." I do not feel any better. If anything was even the slightest bit risky I immediately stop the carousel and disclose.

But then I try and disclose every time anyhow. Still, I've slipped up a few times. It pisses me off. I don't have nightmares, I have day time self sabotaging retributions.

Is this the consequence of modern sexuality? Self-hatred? I want to be spared of this sexuality. Despite it's pleasure and loving potential, it often feels like a curse.

Perhaps, that is why I have become increasingly less sexually active. Maybe I'll make a decision like yours.

Huntington said...

Some high-falutin' Greek or Roman once exulted, upon reaching an age old enough to have lost interest in sex, "At last I am free of a cruel and an insane master."

kusala ~ joe said...

m00nchild: The truth is, I really haven't made a "decision" or found the ideal solution... abstinence isn't really a serious consideration right now (though my "activity" has definitely declined), and completely "coming out" on this subject is difficult and somewhat complicated by being in such a small city (even though I know that should have nothing to do with it). In some ways, my options feel like (a) move to a bigger metro area, (b) practice exclusive serosorting, or (c) get into a monogamous relationship. Option (b) has always seemed like it should be the easiest option of the three, but none of them are simple. None of this is simple. It's not simple.

BigAssBelle said...

i am schizophrenic on the subject of my vast sexual experience. on one hand, it was exciting and fun and i don't regret it. on the other hand, it was at times, lonely and awful and miserable. i am fortunate that it was not complicated by illness, very much so. hugs to you, my riend.

copperred said...

I'm at least heartened that you are having sex and not plotting revenge upon the residents of that fair town as a means to channeling your frustrations, like Laura "Crazy Eyes" Bush.

Having had very much less than I was once accustomed to of late, I've found the rigor of the past less present on occasion, only to be snapped forcefully back into place. There is nothing simple. At least you haven't taken on the mantle of "Ask Me is the new black." and there's plenty to be said for that.