It has occurred to me that civilization’s dependence on trade to feed an awakening appetite for more expedient acquisition as a sign of high position on the status tier to the stratosphere of influence in the social sphere goes far deeper than honest prostitution and servitude into how sex has become as ubiquitous a component of today’s thingathon as plastic.
I have always looked askance at the term, “make love,” seeming less harsh than the word, “fuck,” but no less a blatant mock of the mutual affection expressed by the more apropos prose phrase, “sharing love,” for those occasions when both are sharing love beyond the mutually masturbatory fuck of it. The confusion between the instant gratification of itchy genitals and love fills psychiatrists couches, romance novels, pornography collections, fashionable closets, plastic surgeons’ schedules, weight rooms, prescriptions and wedding aisles with folks searching for just the right thing to do to finally feel loved instead of fucked. All the while, if not hating, at least ignoring the only one who’s love is required to feel love from the rest: — themselves, buried so far back beneath primary education / indoctrination / orientation, blanket shame for selfishness and therapeutic remedies to more complacently swallow and willingly contribute to the myth that love, like happiness and peace must first be gained from without to be felt within.
So, this may be a third possibility for why I have discovered celibacy without religious vows by merely taking myself out of the marketplace, having no will to sell, trade or buy, may be an indication of the lack of sex occurring anywhere for any other reason. I have gotten to know and love some wonderful women in ways never before possible for either of us when sex was a major framework of the relationship. I must admit the mythical winding down of the urge at my age and my decision to await spontaneous mutual desire to have sex with a loved one seem to be excuses for each other if you assume the urge actally winds down rather than refines. Without persuasion from proposals to propositions, guarantees to gratuities, whining to dining, there would be much less sex being had and much fewer accidental new customers being byproducts as a result of the industry making the junk that makes making love confused with sex make a fortune for them.
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Another thing I noticed was that the word fuck appears in many memes as a favorite curse word mayhap precisely for its connotation of sex as devoid of love as possible without being downright rape.
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Came across the idea that love, too, is used in more exploitative ways than as a mere commodity. There is the evangelistic love of those taught to love their enemies like a chubby girl loves her chocolates, with a desire to consume the loved ones and thereby render them indistinguishable from ones own prejudices. I’m reminded of the three words the ambitious newlywed bride remembers from the ceremony:
AISLE
ALTAR
HYMN
ALTAR
HYMN
5 comments:
I was going to say "whine and dine" was my favorite word usage, until I got to the bottom of the post :)
You clever man.
The church has made it virtually impossible for us (mostly women in chains!) to distinguish love from the collision of flesh that is a damn good fuck.
Love should been freedom, the right to be, the right to choose. Unfortunately most look upon it as a way to manipulate, to control, a way to feed the ego and put scaffolding around insecurity. First we should try loving ourselves.
Maybe this is common knowledge, or even plain wrong, but a high school teacher of mine once told my class that the word fuck was once commonly used in the days of sword fighting, and meant to stab, prick or pierce. My teacher said that Shakespeare used the word often, but now that it is considered profanity, the word is now edited out of modern reproductions of Shakespeare's writing.
Hugs to you todd,
A
I don't suppose I could choose, from among those I consider friends, three better examples of the mutual appreciation and kinship I call sharing love in this post, than the three tangents above. A is the only one who knows me in person. That is the least of your differences, yet I find the connection between us all as equally relevant and mutually beneficial. Welks (thanks and you're welcome in one feeling of love).
One might say that love is who we are - or who we were - or what we're supposed to be - the rest - with all the add ons and dictionary definitions - are just fear-based collusions stemming from fundamental forgetfulness.
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