Apparently my last post was pretty nonsensical, so let’s forget about that one. I gave up smoking weed shortly before coming to Canada, but I’ve just taken it back up. Whenever I’m high I can write out entire novels in my mind, but by the time I can be bothered to pick up a pen or start typing, I’ve forgotten entirely what I was going to write about, let alone the actual words I intended to use.

I’ve just got home. I spent last night with a woman. Not just a woman but the woman that I’ve been spending a considerable amount of time with recently, the only woman in that way.
I walked up Banff Ave after leaving hers, I went to McDonald’s for a few double cheeseburgers, I noticed something on my walk back. I feel as though in Banff everyone looks at one another differently, every time someone looks at another person they’re weighing up whether or not they’d fuck them. You can see it on their faces.
I feel like that’s the case wherever you go, but it seems to be more obvious here in Banff. I do it all the time. Basically every woman I lay my eyes on, my first thought is would I fuck them, the answer is usually yes, sometimes it’s not just I would but I actively want to, sometimes I need to, as if it’s a matter of life and death.
It’s natural, we all do it, especially men. It’s a primitive, instinctive desire to pass on our genetic material and increase the chances of our species and our bloodlines survival. Polygamy is not natural. More often than not it’s necessary for a relationship to work, so we force it upon ourselves for the sake of love, but at a base level our instincts go against it.
This girl, who I’ve fallen for as of late, she’s the only one I want to be with at present, yet I still have these thoughts about every woman I pass, because women are beautiful and I desire all of them, but I’d never act upon these thoughts. I suppress them because what would come naturally would bring me misery, sometimes we have to fight for happiness.

Sex is a complicated subject. Everyone desires it. In fact, we all spend a considerable amount of our lives perusing it, or at the very least thinking about it. We also all have of fetishes, I’m not sure I’ve spelt that write, but you get what I mean. I’m a big believer in indulging in them, and I think an important part of a relationship is to allow our partners to indulge in them, to an extent. Obviously if it’s somethings you know will make you unbearably uncomfortable, then your partner should understand that and drop it.
My ex once stuck a finger up my arse. Sorry if that’s too blunt. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that, but I can’t think of a more subtle way to put it. She asked me first, and I figured that if that was what she desired then who am I to deny her such a small thing. I’ll probably never allow another woman to do it, as it instantly killed the mood, extinguishing my sex drive quicker than he thought of Hilary Clinton’s dried up corporatist cunt.

We do have to suppress our desires sometimes though, particularly when we are in a relationship built on love, because often a fetish is not based on love, it’s based on primordial lust, and while a little of each work well, in extreme amounts they clash.
I’m in the early stages of a relationship at the moment, but I still have innumerable sexual desires. I just do my best to suppress them. I’m trying out something new, something I want more than anything else, and those other desires don’t correlate. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t walk down the street, see a red headed girl with a bull ring piercing in her nose, curling her hair and instinctively want her. Because we can’t help what we want, we can only help whether or not we act on it.
I’m turned on by all manner of things. All women turn me on. They dot even have to be sexy, there’s a difference between a person being sexy and being able to turn you on. Some women, and they’re often the ones I desire the most, I find to be the most awkward of creatures, the anxious way they move, their inability to hold a conversation, and I want them, not because they are in anyway close to what one might describe as a sex symbol, or an object of sexual desire, but because they plain and simply turn me on.

I get that I probably come across as incredibly misogynistic, but I don’t intend it that way. I’ve never fucked a woman I haven’t loved, although I’ve probably never met a woman I haven’t loved, or at least thought I loved for a brief moment, but in that moment it’s the realist thing I’ve ever experienced. That’s my biggest problem, there is something to be desired in every single member of that marvellous gender and I want every single one of them. King Solomon had something stupid like 600 wives, I’m not sure if I envy or pity him. 600 wives would be fine with me, provided I had the chance to fall completely in love with every one of them, but it seems somewhat impossible, at least to maintain that feeling. If I were him, I’d have just married a new woman every night, and got divorced every morning. Imagine that, falling asleep every night knowing that the woman beside you was the one, the one you loved, the one you would spend the rest of your life with, and getting to repeat that feeling every night but with someone new, someone fresh, never allowing love to sour, stamping it out before you could see there flaws.


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