When and if this master’s chicken ever sees the grease filled eyes of petty idealists, hipsters, base literary assholes and other conglomerates of assorted art fags...this will be included as the actual introduction....so I had better not understand the consequences of what I say. Everyone should know that what is most commonly perceived of as depth is just bad writing, convoluted sentences, and vagueness (J.L. Austin rip off).
On my writing style; clarity and accurate description are obsessions of mine. This story could have easily stayed within 3,000 words but would have lost it’s tone, poignancy, and direction. What would have been the point of me writing another formulaic “I’m in love with a boy who fucks other girls and makes me listen to the details” expungence? Enough stories like that are already in circulation because of how common such experiences are. What is not as common about this story is my own shattered past and reactionary behaviors. It is this back drop of childhood abuse that needs to be put to light which necessitates a prelude to the actual story.
As to clarity, there are two methods to achieve it: harsh bluntness and repetition of motifs or ideas, both of which I use readily. Redundancy often coming in supplemental use of synonyms and word lists. I’m a writer, not a linguist so I don’t expect my readers to be living dictionaries (even if my own use of the English Language teeters on archaic and pedantic). Wordiness...only in clarity’s sake. Beyond all things I want nothing more than to be understood...a statement that is so ultimately fucking lamely cliché I can barely utter it. Self-humiliation, interpersonal alienation, and the evaporating need to be at least comprehended is what drags out this shoddy existence of mine. The belief that I can at least spark enough pity for my own emotional degeneracy that some emo fucks will be *nice* to me, keeps me alive.
What everyone really wants to know about: my hatred for people who count change at the register, or my sexual dilemma. It’s not a dilemma so much as an obsession (sounds normal enough). Let me try stating it this way, my obsession with my own sexual dysfunction that gnaws at my brain like a rat to cheesy shit and how one’s my feelings of worthlessness permeate and corrupt every aspect of my life.
Molestation and other forms of rape obliterate all concepts of self-sexual control, sexual boundaries, etc. An overly abused idiom like “love-hate relationship” with sex and one’s body develops as well as a disgust for any object of sexual affection. Desire and pleasure become understood as feelings that cannot and should not, be trusted. The object of desire or giver of pleasure always mutates into a betrayer, abuser, and/or potential destroyer whether or not such intentions exist. Non-malignant actions are interpreted as potentially fatal tumors. The individual drive for protection and defense against further abuses creates radical behaviors concerning the treatment of loved ones.
This is the last time I’m going to write about the mutating affects sexual abuse has on a child’s mind, and how that mutation turns into mal-adaption during adulthood. First, let’s examine the long term consequences. Due to my love of laundry lists or cliff notes, I’ll handle the situation accordingly. Numbers with a *, are conditions that I myself suffer from and numbers with a ^, are problems I have some times.
1. Sexual identity, gender confusion. (Am I a Girl or a Boy Syndrome).
*2. Sexual orientation misunderstanding. (Am I Gay or Straight/Do I even like sex Syndrome).
*3. Muting of sexuality as in Androgyny or
3a. Hypersexuality as in “now I’m a big fat whore”.
^4. A worse feeling of sexual stigma than the most devoted religious fanatic, AKA fear of sexual contact.
^5. Timidity.
*6. Inability to identify boundaries.
7. Lack of comprehension on how it’s okay to treat other people and
*7a. Lack of understanding how it’s okay to be treated.
^8. Fear of being seen by people in a sexual away or seen as desirable/attractive.
*9. Tendency to allow abusive behavior either sexually, physically, or emotionally from future lovers, friends , etc. and
^9a. Making excuses for said abuses i.e. “he/she is hurting me but its okay because deep down inside they really love me”.
*10. Feelings of obligation to sleep with someone no matter how much you don’t want to do it. (Can’t say no syndrome).
11. Guilt and shame from deriving pleasure from sex.
12. Sexualizing non-sexual encounters and
*12a. Viewing every person you meet as a potential sex partner or believing they want to fuck you, even if you know they don’t or have no reason to believe that they do and not believing them when they tell you flatly that they don’t. AKA sexual suspicion.
12b. Interpreting everything in terms of sexual power plays.
*13. Various forms of sexual obsession and continual discomfort from this obsession.
*14. Always thinking/talking about sex or
14a. Never thinking/talking about sex/fear of thinking/talking about sex.
*15. Over-attachment of importance to sex or sex partners i.e. it’s never casual sex syndrome.
^16. Falling in love easily and
*16b. Inability to fall in love completely AKA trust.
^17. Physical sexual dysfunction or I swear I’m really horny but I just can’t get wet.
*18. Subconscious issues i.e. nightmares, flashbacks which cause unexpected mood swings and unexplainable actions.
^19. Feeling of being robbed of “normal’ sexuality or “why can’t I just enjoy this as much as everyone else seems to”.
It goes without saying that no one I’ve ever slept with (more than once, and I rarely fuck someone more than one time...less than 1/4 of the people I’ve had sex with) wants to talk about these things because they undoubtedly don’t want to see themselves in terms of all of this shit.
People like me need a lot of love, patience and understanding from outside sources...something there isn’t much of in the world let alone in other people.
Hey, in this day and age who hasn’t smoked crack?
Continual fear of emotional harm lurks behind each “I love you” which always sounds like “I love to fuck you and when I don’t anymore I’m going to love to fuck you over”. Suspicion, jealousy, complete attachment without the ability to show sincere devotion or vulnerability, reactionary preemptive strikes...quitting because you think you’re already fired, doubt of honesty, the disbelief that anyone can, would, could, or will treat you well so you had better take what you can get. In the end it is your own mind that is your enemy and acidic corridor of closest companions...mental bile burns through their flesh.
