Men & women

What’s in a number?

“What’s in a name? that which we call a rose / By any other name would smell as sweet” (Romeo and Juliet).

Recently, a woman imagined that I number the women I date so that they would be remembered better. This comment got me thinking about the subject. It’s true that I do not remember the names of all the women that traveled through my life, but for sure I remember the experiences and the sensations that I lived with every one of them.

I always had a problem with remembering names of people I encounter and as Shakespeare says in his play, it’s not about the names…

The best sexual experiences that I had were the ones where I would get to know, at least a little bit, the woman that would share my bed for a few hours or days. The best sex is the one you do with your brain, not just with your sexual organs.

The women that I encountered were very diverse and I never looked for a certain type of woman. I tried them all, as I think that every human has something to offer, a thought, an experience. So I always stayed open to engulf as many it was offered to me.

I had also some experiences that I refused, either for being too trivial, or for other reasons. Today I will depict one of these experiences.

It was all happening about 10 years ago when I had the chance to travel to US, together with my ex lady manager. We had the chance to visit San Francisco and Silicon Valley, including one of the HQ of a huge IT company for which we worked at that time.

We got 3 days just for us before going to meetings, which we used to the fullest to get in touch with the American Dream. I was about to find soon that her American Dream was to get me in her bed.

She was a woman that would never refuse a pleasure for herself and we had long discussions where she would talk about the men that passed through her life. She was quite proud about the number too: more than 50 at the time of the tale.

One night we agreed to meet in the hotel lobby to get out for a stroll. I was in the lobby for about 20 minutes, when I got bored and went to her room. She opened the door dressed only in a small towel, inviting me to come in till she gets herself ready.

I accepted the invitation, although I felt a strong attraction towards her. She jumped in the bed, thrown the towel on the floor and she asked me to take some pictures of her. Having a passion for photography, especially if it involved a woman’s body, I started to shoot pictures of her in every position she would lay.

She pulled me towards her and started to open my belt. My entire body was enticed by the moments that would follow, yet my brain said “NO”. I pulled myself and told her that I would wait in the lobby until she was ready.

The thought of just being a number on her list casted a shade of grotesque on the picture and I could not go on…mentally. As I would find out years later when we met again, she gave a present to the man she was with at that moment bearing the number 89. And the number was him.

At that moment I received the confirmation that it’s not all in the numbers.

Raw thoughts

Recently I received a feedback that my texts are too elaborated and that I should try, at least from time to time, to simply just let my mind flow on paper and also write about bad things that are happening to me.

Fuck it, let’s start. My mind is running around now between the need to spend time with my daughter, to which I can hardly wait to encounter later, and the sensual date I will experience after she will be asleep…..hopefully not too late.
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My mind is tired from all the running around that I had experienced in the past weeks. My wife left home unexpectedly 3 months ago and a lot of women took over, trying to fill my emptiness that I felt about losing dreams, future plans, hope and the presence of my dear baby girl.

I met lots of very interesting people in the meantime, did a lot of things that I missed to do before and did not find time to do them. Yet, when I was lonely, teardrops were running on my cheek. You did not imagine that an alpha male can cry, did you?

I fucked God in so many ways that I even surprised myself. I’m not a religious man, but there were harsh times in my life when I was trying to find an illogical explication to illogical things that were happening. The truth is that everything is done by people, who are fucking up their lives by doing stupid things.

My plans stopped and will be on hold for a lot of time. What’s the use in making them anymore. I’ll just enjoy life as a man spoiled by all the women that exist in my life. Tonight, tomorrow, next week….month….year.

Hedonism

“Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself.

Choose your future.

Choose life.”

The horrid truth from above is very well expressed by the movie “Trainspotting”. We are all drawn in a society whirlpool that negates our inner being, our feelings anddreams. A society that transforms all beings into trained soldiers of Capitalism, Communism or whatever fucking other –ism. We play family, we simulate love, just for fear of being rejected and ostracized.

I’ve been there already and tried them all, losing my true self in every drop of conformity to laws designed by a terrible society, centered on stabilizing the masses for the greater good of a few rulers. My biggest failure in the eye of a perverted society was probably the incapacity to shape a family. Been there twice already until my mid 30s and the only good thing that came out of my attempts was a beautiful baby girl who owns most of my heart and soul.

The mirror that I explored soon after my 2^nd failed attempt, with the purpose to find out what is wrong with me, expressed clearly that there were no flaws or mistakes. The only wrong thing in my picture was what I was looking for and dreamed of.

Aristippus, a pupil of Socrates, founded a philosophy called hedonism, which centers on maximizing the net pleasure, preaching it as the only intrinsic good. Although I never was a religious being, I find this religion as the missing piece in my puzzle. There were instinctive attempts to embrace it ever since my adolescence, yet the perfidious rules were crushing them rapidly.

I’ve evolved in a month more than in 5 years of marriage. People’s personality is a sum of past experiences and people that transferred to you a part of themselves. The women that I’ve known in the past month managed to dazzle my spirit and mind, to incite my senses in a way beyond speech.

I will not put aside the wonderful sexual moments that I lived in these 30 days. The energy that I absorbed from the experiences with most of these women was far superior to the 2 above mentioned marriages. The net pleasure was well above past events.

“It’s hard to stay mad, when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst… And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life.”

 

The lines from American beauty can be assumed by anyone capable of a strong introspection, followed by a redefinition of personal strategy. I’ve been there and I look forward to what my new religion will bring. No plans, no more constraints or stupid principles. I live for the hunt of pure pleasure.