I feel self indulgent, I feel like I'm the only one that matters. I feel guilty. I feel guilty for asking these questions to myself. After all, the world has so many "real" problems. Thousands of people dying in war and famine and here I spend my time pondering my self importance and my attraction to men? I feel a loss of perspective-- like in exploring myself I lose perspective of the world, my connection to the life that surrounds.
After all, does it really matter if I feel a chemical attraction towards men? Or women? Or both? In the grand scheme it really is meaningless. Then why do I waste precious time and energy trying to define something that I know in my heart simply is. I have a love for all people. I wish to express this love sexually as I see sex as a higher more intimate form of communication. A communication beyond words. A connection beyond bodies and into the spirit of another. I do not wish to confine myself to a single partner or sexual orientation because in doing so I am excluding all the beauty the rest of the world has to offer.
I feel guilty, guilty that I am conciously aware of this. Why can't I be like the other fools in the world who date a girl or a boy, get caught up in the excitement, realize that something is missing, break up, and repeat the cycle? Why do I have to understand that that "something" that they see as missing is really all the beauty in the world that they are segregating themselves from by having a monogamous partner or single sexual orientation?
There is beauty in every man, there is beauty in every women, I suppose our fear locks us up and prevents us from seeing this.
I recently broke up with my girlfriend and during the last conversation we had together she told me how she wanted to make love to many different people in many different countries around the world. Make love to men, women, blacks, whites, Christians, Muslims. Those words were so beautiful to me. Instead of feeling jealous that she wanted to have other partners, I felt a strange calm come over me. It was as though she completely understood me, and what's more she felt the same. It was as if we were artists, sex was our paintbrush and life our canvas. The masterpiece we were painting would be called "The incestious orgy of life" and would include everyone making love together, everyone communicating and connecting on a level beyond words.
feel happy, satisfied. Satisfied that I took the time to write this,
to address my feelings. With a sense of inner calm and understanding
about myself I can send out my love to the world (be it in a sexual manner
or in another form). After all, all the wars, famines and injustices
in the world find their roots in a lack of love and understanding. Oh,
God, please allow me to cultivate some love for the world to use.
Copyright © 2003 Paul Shantz. All rights reserved.
About The Author:
"My name is Paul Shantz I'm 22, Male, living in Toronto, Canada."
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