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Virginty: The only 100% curable desease.
To be honest...It took several attempts....
... so much for "hating your first."
So. Here's my thought on my virginity. I don't particularly care. Really. But I still am one. 21, and still haven't "done the deed." It's getting kind of annoying now, because I feel like I'm missing out on all these cultural references. Or people talk about it in some way, or what they would or would not do, or their favorite position, and they look to me for input, and I don't have any cause I've never had anyone put in.
Grah. Part of it is I'm scared. I'm terrified. For no reason. Which annoys the crap out of me because I've always tried to face my fears but the excuse of "but I want the first time to be with someone I care about" keeps me from facing it.
Another part of it is self-esteem. I don't think of myself as pretty. Or sexy. And when other people tell me I am, it always sounds like they're lying. I don't see how someone could honestly be attracted to me, even though in retrospect I can see how people have grown more attractive to me the more they grow in my regard. When you give someone a name and a personality, how you see them changes. I guess I don't hold myself in high regard.
I think most people disliked their first time. I disliked mine simply for the person... If only I had waited. But then again there were some good things that came from it. I have been able to let go and to know when someone is just going to use me. I don't regret it, but in someways I'm still holding a grudge against myself.
I recently had this thought. What if I were magically a virgin again? How would I feel about that? My answer is somewhere between pissed or entirely indifferent. I wouldn't want to revisit all that pressure and emphasis on THE FIRST TIME. If I had a virginity to lose again, I'd lose it having sex that was no different than any of the other sex I have. I always approach sex the same, and generally feel the same about any of my various partners, so why should I feel different just because it's OMG THE FIRST TIME WTF. To all the virgins out there, I say figure out how you feel about sex and your partners, get it set in your mind what your policies are expectations and approach are going to be, then have sex for the first time as if it were the hundredth time. If you're interested in sex, then start off comfortable with sex, even if you've never had it before. Maybe my feelings about de-emphasizing the first time come from my similar feelings about not wanting to place any more emphasis on the last time. When it seemed like my first girlfriend and I didn't have long before we were going to break up, it dawned on me that sometime rather soon, I was going to have sex for the last time with the girl that I was in love with, the girl who took my virginity, and vice-versa. I asked her (tactlessly, in hindsight) if she would still want to have sex one last time if we had broken up, or were in the process of breaking up. She said that she wouldn't want to know that it was the last time. That really stuck with me. Because there was a last time. It wasn't any more special than any other time we had sex, but it was the last time. It was tragic what happened between us, but we at least had that one, last time, where we could return to that old, familiar, wonderful lie that we would be there for each other forever. And I have another last time in store for me, as well. At some point, I suppose I'll die. And that event will be preceded by a final act of lovemaking. Maybe I've already had sex for the last time without knowing it. Maybe it's decades in the future. I'd just rather not know it when it happens. How would you have sex for the last time? I think that knowing that it was the last time would just leave you feeling disappointed that you're not capable of turning a single session of sex into a timeless epic masterpiece or whateverthefuck. I just don't feel like it's within my power to have sex on some epic, higher, ultra-fulfilling level that'll make me comfortable with it being the last. I don't think that there's anything that could rescue me from how depressing it is to know that I'm doing something for the last time. So I can only hope for ignorance. Ironically, the way that I live my life is strongly influenced by my insistence on suspecting that I'm about to die. And on the other hand, I approach as much as possible as if it's new to me, even if it's familiar. Something like the child-mind cultivated by Taoists, I guess. The result of this is that I take in every new experience without acknowledging anything that came before it, and assuming that nothing will come after it. A moment becomes eternity that way, and whatever you're observing loses its context and becomes a whole universe for you to explore. But I feel like if I were aware that I was actually at my life's dead end... I don't know. I might not be able to pull this trick off. That might be the one time that I wouldn't be capable of savoring the experience. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm overanalyzing it. My goal is to have every experience reality can offer, but never experience anything for the last time. It's 4:30 in the morning, I've been working for days, and I'm delirious with fatigue. I'm not sure what compelled me to post this. I'ma gosleepnow. Time is an illusion. The illusory sleepytime yields dreams. Dreams contain passages of time. Time is an illusion. Illusions in dreams. Dreams can yield lucidity. Lucidity dismantles illusions. Illusory time. Time in dreams. Dreams in time. Time of lucidity and illusion are only differentiated in dreams, and lucidity is always assumed in waking. Waking yields illusions. Illusions are dismantled by lucidity. Lucidity is confirmed to be true and different from illusory mindstates when it manifests out of illusions. Illusions need a dreamstate to dissociate from to be confirmed to be dismantled. Time to dream away time.
I'm glad that he didn't take my virginity from me. Now I feel like I'm slightly special, even though I also feel that I will not understand most of the world until I do have sex. If I find out that life is really like it is in Bukowski's world where sex and drinking is all that life is about, I might be depressed for the rest of my life.
I think that virginity is over rated, I mean the first time never truly is all romance and rose petals. So might as well not bother to create an unrealistic situation that will just get completly shot down by the pain between your legs and the awkwardness of the whole scene.
I lost my virginity twenty days into my fourteenth year. It was in a barn. With a bipolar nutcase. I didn't feel a thing besides hay poking me. His mom came out and almost caught us. I had to put my underwear and my bra in my pockets. My shoes on the wrong feet.