#I hate procreate but I’m on vacation so I can’t have my computer

[oh-look-its-lia]

Best girl

[rubymixes-blog]

2019-03-15

          Sensory overkill. That’s the name of the game today. Again. Often times I find it hard to shut my mind off. Just letting go for a while. Not having anything floating around in my headspace. It is funny to me when I do not spend time in front of a computer monitor because suddenly everything feels so light and comfortably empty. Empty in a way of reducing the racing velocity of the electrifying stream of energy between the two halves of my brain.

          It’s hard not to get bored after a certain amount of time. I never fully understood how people could manage to go on these monthlong vacations to India, Thailand or South America without ever wanting to shoot themselves at some point. Maybe I am not the type for these kinds of travels, I thought. But then it struck me that I have never had a problem with being away from home. Alone or in great company, urban or rural, cold or warm; these were never differentiating factors. What would make the difference, however, is the boredom that would creep up from days after days after days of literally doing nothing productive. While my motivations have migrated towards achieving financial stability, I have always needed to find a solid purpose on why to stay in any place of the world for longer than a week at a time.

          I remember spending a lot of time on vacation in Poland when I was little. My parents decided that they wanted to raise me bilingually, so my mother explained things in Polish while my father would talk to me in German. Fun fact: my parents themselves were immigrants who moved to Germany in 1988 in order to escape the communist regime in Poland and begin a new life in their own notion of “the promised land”. While they never acquired a dialect, they have been pretty good in proficiently learning the German language without carrying much of an accent. No accent equals standardized language a.k.a. “where the fuck do you come from?” When I was six years old, I began studying the English language at home. By 1999, my parents had bought their second personal computer leading them to give the older model to me in combination with an English learning computer game. I loved every bit of it. I have always been quick with technological equipment, fixing universal remotes, camcorders, VHS devices and whatever got into my family’s hands, in the blink of an eye back when I was a kid. Little did my parents expect that I would also lock down cellphones and explore internet pornography within a few clicks away from the buzzing sound of a 56K modem. When I say internet pornography, we’re talking animated GIFs transitioning images within 23 seconds at a resolution of 640 to 480 pixels. Besides, I probably had never seen anybody fucking before. Was I traumatized? A little. More by the grueling monologues of my parents than by what I had actually seen. Parents are so ridiculously not cute when trying to explain to their kids how humans are made and how they brought you into this world. No cabbage patch, huh? I get it.

          It wasn’t until I was in sixth grade that the internet had become a regular thing in the German household. In the very first weeks, I could not overhear the rambling conversations of my peers arguing about which porn site was the best. Besides them making up the most hilarious stories about them jerking off in their rooms, I remember being fairly shocked when I saw my very first clip. As an eleven-year-old raised in a rather liberal but Christian family, I had never been close to imagining how sexual intercourse could look like. Besides, there is different ways to have sex with a human being than straight-up missionary PIV? Wow! I pretty much had my mind blown. Maybe it was a result of the amount of tissues piling up next to my desk. I can’t recall but I remember that by the age of fifteen, I wanted to get laid, so badly. So I did what most people at school would do – get a girlfriend. My first high school love was a dancer, hot and cool at the same time and was basically turned into a sex maniac as soon as she got into me. Interestingly, this has been the case with all my longer-term relationships. Nevertheless, I have always considered sex and my sexuality as something very sacred that is not to be wasted on cheap meaningless encounters. If I want to engage with you, I’m going to go all in. If that’s you, get ready for the ride of your life.

          Many years later I had found out that some of my peers very much enjoyed taking girls home, fuck their brains out and dump them onto the street within the next 24 hours. I never understood this kind of behavior. Some people I met said, it is rather common for guys to do that. Interesting. My behavior puts me onto the other side of the spectrum. The side of the female that is evolutionary tied to bringing in and securing a mate, a qualified partner to spend time and procreate with. Not wasting resources on spreading out source materials rather than zoning in on the real goods of a meaningful relationship. And without any further conclusions, at the age of twenty, I thought to myself: “Am I really that weird?”

          At this age, it is still hard to accept the fact that you might never be compatible with the regular world. It took me a few years to find out that so many of the things I had said, as a guy, did in fact mean so little to me. More often, I found myself crying with my face in my hands saying: “My God, I am so disgusted by my own behaviors”. I have always been opposed to men hating on women. To link the fact that many men cannot properly relate to a female due to things like “hormones and bleeding vaginas” has always been utterly ridiculous to me. What gives you the right to be a sexist bigot trying to stand as something better because your dick and your balls manifest your obviously increased rationale? Give me the real thing! Unfiltered. Unbiased. Maybe there is a solution for your problem. Until then, go home, jerk off a few times, and then get a close 101 on developing personal integrity. If you want some, contact me. I’ll show you.