Today, as I was being visually stimulated by my system for transmitting visual images and sound that are reproduced on screens, chiefly used to broadcast programs for entertainment, I was reminded of something I hadn’t thought of in quite the time.
What does it matter? Why is it so prevalent to my being? Why MAD LIBBING?
Because mad-libbing was my introduction to sexuality. As strange as it seems, when I was young and knew nothing of the act or though of the practice of mating, I had friends that did. Friends told me things like “sex is kissing naked” and “an orgasm means you feel like you have to pee”. Misleading incorrect information that built my understanding of the perverse sexual universe I would eventually be a part of.
As the story goes, I had friends that eventually showed me what the internet really was for, pornography. For some reason even though everyone seemed to enjoy it I never really found it stimulating in the least, if anything, I hated the sight of the male’s genitalia and found them as a whole quite disgusting, hairy, grunting, sweaty creatures. Nonetheless I found much more joy in READING the pornography rather than WATCHING it – and more-so, writing it, so that I may be the God of my own desires and lusts. Being at a young age, and never having any experience with the topic, I had no material to base my thoughts upon. So I came upon a site my babysitter had shown me once, a site dedicated to Mad Libbing.
Before being tainted with the essence of intercourse I had never purposefully searched for the wrong in things. After I found the sweet joy of arousal I looked for the dirt in everything. In the ‘adult’ Mad Libbing section I had hours upon hours of entertainment. I knew what it felt like to be aroused. And I was forever tormented by my constant desire, but no understanding of release. Still to this day I have never successfully masturbated, and I find that I enjoy nonphysical stimulation to the actual act of sex itself. In short, I have developed some strange fetish for arousal but denied orgasm. I find sex is much more enjoyable before I’ve gotten off, but once I reach climax, it is no longer enjoyable. I cannot, no matter how I try or what I try with, understand the skill of masturbation. Maybe that lack in skill explains, in part, my inability to stay out of relationships for long periods of time, even though I do not mentally desire them, nor am I usually ready for a new partner. But I do not have and cannot enjoy casual sex, so I have no choice but to hop from relationship to relationship. Even if I do not love the person, or find them terribly desirable, I force myself onto whatever will take me and hold on to them for self-gratification so that I may not be physically alone, though in my mind there is nothing more that I would rather covet then to be completely alone inside of my head.
Or am I already?