I am genuinely frustrated by people's nature to fake their real being and mask themselves with a style that they desire to have possessed naturally. I am specially annoyed by those who make up their social status by the number of boogie nights they had, it could be with someone they know or some random act of foreplay. Married or Single, these sex thirsty maniacs are fixated on boasting their social status by fictionalizing some of their cheap fantasies. And a rather downgraded version of these few men are those who fake an arranged marriage to be a love marriage. Why does one have to do that? What difference is that ever going to make to their life or mine? Enough I said to be myself; I couldn't for one more minute stand there and listen to that bull-crap.
I believe that a desert is sometimes necessary. Sometimes, it is what your soul and your body need. A rest. To dream instead of do. My time with my ex girlfriend gave me jitters even in dreams but for the most period I felt solace in her company, I felt complete sleeping beside her and that had become a habit, a comfort. But when we had to move to different cities for career interests, the dreams started giving way to glimpses of her parting with me, my nightmares had visions of her being dragged away from me; I literally used to wakeup in the middle of the night, frantically search my room and on not finding her, call her and confirm she was safe; maybe it wasn't love, it was obsession, I was truly n madly missing her by my bedside, and that habit had to die and eventually it did, for the good or bad. Since that time, I have hardly slept with anybody for length, and honestly, never felt the need to (sometimes my flatmate manages to creep in, but that doesn't count, does it?). So believe me, when the body really wants the skin of someone else, it knows perfectly how to behave. You will look into someone’s eyes, and nature will take over. No matter how old you are. No matter wrinkles, or norms.
I think a lot about privacy. I realize privacy is not about what you are doing so much as about what you are not doing. Privacy is that which you can hide — which, in our modern society, is not much. Sexuality is completely on display. From where I come, children know about their parents’ sexuality; parents know about children’s sexuality. Where is the treasure of silence, of things not shown? Where is the mystery? Our openness is a good thing, for many reasons (of course!), but it has made indiscretion the norm. Everywhere, the question of “Who are you?” is answered with an explanation of sex. This is silly. We’re more than that. We are poetry, we are floating creatures, sometimes happy sexually, and sometimes in a desert, even as we share our lives with someone.
Sometimes I took pleasure just by staring at women’s lips. Sometimes, their buttocks. And sometimes, just by listening to a voice. It is libido, trust me. It is desire. But society doesn’t recognize this kind of felicity. It’s too much! I’ve learned that most people mainly want to prove that they are sexually functioning, and that’s all. And strangely, what I have learnt from my experience, people are ashamed to admit that they are alone in their beds, which I discovered is a huge pleasure.