...at least we can joke about it now, what do I know

Discussion in 'Ages 30-39' started by dark red drifter vessel, Sep 8, 2017.

  1. Pete McVries

    Pete McVries Active Member

    I had a weird realization the other day and I hope it's somewhat related. If not, just disregard it.

    At the moment I'm dating a girl (or a woman rather) and she doesn't have any social media (neither do I) and even her WhatsApp profile is without a picture. So it's impossible for me to look her up or look at pictures of her during the days where we don't see each other. After last thursday where we got really intimate for the first time since we started dating, I really started missing her and wanted to look at her and stuff but I simply couldn't. And that keeps the tension and anticipation to see each other again really high and I cannot wait to meet her again. What I want to say is, I know sending dick pics is sort of the new norm but why not wait until we can get the real thing when seeing each other?

    Take care, keep stacking those days ;)
    Thelongwayhome27 likes this.
  2. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Active Member

    Ui, mister tracker in the signature tells me I'm without porn for 30 days now. Nice.

    Have had some issues with masturbation. Having sex kind of does that. Well, excuses, I kind of do it, not any outside circumstance/metaphor.

    I know, I know.

    Hadn't had much of a crush initially, but I'm starting to really like them. And that classic anxiety that the sex can never be as good as with le X have been, well, vaporized in that flamethrower of whats going on in my life right now.

    It's a bit of MORE FUNCTIONALITY of course, but also I feel a lot more open to people, well, only one person, cause I'm only dating one, right. I have nothing against the concept of polyamory or plain old sleeping around, but it just doesn't seem appealing on the technical side of things. Hah.

    Anycrap. I have zero interest in porn right now, haven't had any for weeks now. I fantasize and masturbate occasionally, which impacts my performance in a tangible way. Not that you need le super hard steel pipe to have fun, mind you. At least I don't, don't know about you guys.

    But since there's a person who actually wants to make out and cuddle, fantasizing bout that stuff has become a bit boring, too.

    Pete, re the pics: I think with me it is mostly an issue of connecting interpersonal sexual stuff with messengers and voice messages and pics. It's eerily close to porn in a way, and I have come to dislike that fucking without being in the same room kinda thing. I have made sure to not keep that habit up, and the new person isn't interested in that stuff anyways (not that I'd ask, some boxes of pandora can rot away unopened as far as I'm concerned.)

    Had quite a met god/cannot explain moment when I met an old friend of mine two days back. We spoke about the dark shit in life and about opening up. She knew me in a time when I was a depressive, ultraradiated wreck drifting through space with drive cores always close to critical meltdown.

    Shit, life was hard and I was a piece of work. I was a fucking piece of work. It's easy to forget the details, the magnitude of destruction visited upon our very lives and the toxicity and the denial we carry around until where finally able to let that cursed piece of armor fall to the ground and shatter.

    The term gratitude gets thrown around a lot, bit like everything and its mum used to be "epic" some years back. But: I feel fucking gratitude for all the people who accepted me as I was and all the people who didn't and told me to change my stuff around, because, brother was I ever a piece of work. I was that frail glass cannon thing, shooting at will, broken by the faintest wind. And then again not. Cause break I did not. Thought I did, but I was wrong.

    Well. Words only carry so far, so I'll say that "met god/cannot explain" is possibly the most honest way to put that feeling. So, there's that.
    Last edited: May 3, 2019
    Mekkeren and TheScriabin like this.
  3. TheScriabin

    TheScriabin Well-Known Member

    Congrats on the 30 days!
  4. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Active Member

  5. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Active Member

    Experiencing focus shift. Work, dating, other stuff. Masturbation comes and goes. Porn's gone. I can never go back, I know that, but it's just not an issue at the moment.

    Dating is a bit weird, haven't done that in a while. And the last person I dated was so out of it that these experiences don't really serve.

    I'm not sure about a lot of things. Job, that relationship, where to go. Thats the price for winning a fight, you lose that "known enemy, known quantity" kinda perk.

    Like pushing against a door for seemingly ever, then one day you break it, stumbling forward into a new room.

    Need to redo that navigation part, draw new maps, scout ahead, reposition.

    Everything is kind of new, kind of old. The dance eternal, this infinitely absurd existence just keeps on going. It don't give a fuck. Do I?

    Don't know. Caught up in the torrent. Not complaining about it, just a bit lost. Have to write more, think more, dig more. Just being adrift don't cut it. I know this and I always forget. Fighting porn wasn't the whole book, just a chapter.

    At times it's hard being free: I have no more pretext, nothing to hide behind or cling to. Well, I tend to find shit occasionally, but it was easier being weaker, feeling like that things plaything.

    Don't get me wrong, that is loss I have accepted. It's loss still.

    Now to not giving away that agency I grasped from porns maw. Now to not clutching defeat from the jaws of victory.

    How? Fuck me if I know. At least I'm aware I need to figure that one out, or good old friends will knock on my door sooner or later. Right? Right.
    Pete McVries likes this.
  6. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Active Member

    Mh. Been a while. Stuff moves, shit happens, sun goes up, then down. You know the drill.

    Had some relapse, smoked some weed, quit smoking, slept with someone I've had the hots for for ages, found out the fire's out.
    Got a haircut, got some new shoes, did some sport stuff. Movement forward, still living in the same spot, slightly altered.

    Regarding the relapse, it's so weird. My attention has shifted away from thatissue, so I just let it slip by. Got a lot going for me in other departments. Making excuses being one of them. :D

    Kind of nice still, to slip up in that regard and it not being the end of your day, the death of your week.

    Still dating, super confused. We got into some fights. I meet other people I fancy. When we fuck, it's hilariously out there.
    It's not like: this is 10% better fornication than that other humanthing. It's just something else. Still not sure about the thing. To be expected,
    I might be regenerative in nature, but still, as of now, damaged goods.

    Life has a bit of the characteristics of an IKEA instruction. In my brain everything is laid out, easy, reasonable.
    From the day to day I somehow still don't know how you just survive as a human. Like, tie your shoelaces, pay taxes, don't get hit by a car, have a fulfilled social life. Sure. Theoretically I now how. I know why. (Which might be more important, right.) On the tangible, muscular level, shit does be different.

    Picture this: If my troubles are a choir, then porn has stepped forth from that choir to have a solo for the past fourhundred rotations of myself around myself. And it still is part of that choir, but now it has stepped back in line to chant with its brothers and sisters in the addiction section of these singers of my personal saga of mimimi. (Which is life, I don't hold that against me, we resolved that issue a few seasons back.) Whenever I touch oine of these singers, the others move as well. I Stop smoking cigarettes, suddenly I reach for that spliff, and watch some porn again, for no reason/for every reason: Reaction, counterreaction. Addiction is like a mini boss squad, whenever I get some licks in against some of them, another steps forward, covering for its team mates.

    I'm not complaining. This is life, mine, specifically, and we all have our patterns, our things. This is just mine, yours too, probably, I guess.

    Right? Right. To say we go two steps foward, three back sometimes might be true, but also: reductive. Cause we ain't just going back and forth, we move in a three dimensional space, and it's the weirdest dance. Hah. I had a really fucked up dream. At some point I was the severed head of a comic figure, jumping like a pogo stick, conversing with an insane doctor about when goats used to be a seperate species. Happens a lot to me when I'm quitting something. This time it's smoking. Must be my what, 20th or 30 th attempt at that?

    Sometimes I manage for days. Sometimes for months. Longest period was four years.

    With smoking, I have long accepted that quitting is like a skill I hone. Each time iot gets a bit easier, a bit clearer. Withdrawal on the first try sent me flying with murderous rage, lasting me a couple a days. No hyperbole. I wanted to tear shit apart. Last try (the one I'm on) I was just dizzy and there were waves of sadness, anger, lonelyness that came to me in waves. Like feelings from a can, you know they ain't real, you just feel them still.

    What do I know. I just come here and write, occasionally.
    TheScriabin likes this.
  7. dark red drifter vessel

    dark red drifter vessel Active Member

    perspective. Need to get some. From the day to day, from scene to scene, this situation of limited ability to navigate life seems like all there is. Sit down, think. This isn't everysthing there is to it. On that abstract/experience level I know there are other times. the visuals I'm getting atm don't really support that, but hey, I'm super biased, I should know. Blah.

    Sometimes my mind is moving like half frozen honey, that is, hardly at all, and it's all a bit opaque.

    worth it reminding myself this is a fog I'm in and not just how life is.

    only thing I'm able to do when I've spun out of control, when I find myself rotating in that harmless, teflon limbo of being out of it.
    been binging netflix yesterday. bojack horseman is getting kind of good in the third season, but also sometimes way too real at the same time.

    my main isue is I can't really not fuck up at the moment when I have free time. which is just a roundabout way to say I am shit at handling my impulses, and that ain't nothing new to anybody here, right. ah. yeah. sure. expect to invent the wheel again on a day of dizzy waiting for the girl.

    Hah. There. There is a clear thought: I feel I might not have anything to say, so say nothing. I don't know how to do it, so I run the null operation protocols on repeat, hoping I'll be able to tackle all of that super easy, manageble shit I have such a hard time with tomorrow. Somehow. And then tomorrow gets that weird moment of acceleration and starts slipping into the future, forever.

    sorry guys, had some reverting to mother tongue. happens, really rarely, but happens. if curious, try deepl. as a tranlsator I hate that shit with a passion but I cannot be arsed today. Lo siento.

    Bla. Preisfrage: Im Vergleich zu früheren Situationen, was hat sich verändert? Es gibt immer etwas, dass sich ändert, und der Trick, sich einen gewissen Grad an geistiger Gesundheit zu erhalten (oder aber zusammenzukratzen) ist den Blick immer wieder auf das Bild zu richten, nicht zu akzeptieren, dass es sich anfühlt, als wäre es die exakt selbe Situation und herauszufinden, was anders ist. Wie ein Spot the difference Bild mit einem einzigen Unterschied und 12.000 DPI. Üben ist schön, und diese Übung ist wie ein alter Freund, der über die Jahre etwas an jugendlicher Frische eingebüßt hat. Aber wie mit vielen alten Freunden liegt die tatsächliche Nähe in subtilen Momenten und der Abwesehenheit von Überraschungen. Erfahrungen in der Tiefe, nicht in der Qualität oder der schieren Masse. Üben ist schön. Oder so.

    Ich meine, ich weiss schon, was anders ist. Ich habe ne (immernoch etwas unettikettierte) Beziehung, mein Job ist gerade okay und ich komme mehr oder minder damit zurecht, nicht zu Rauchen. Und die Stimme im Kopf (beziheungsweise eine von denen, es ist am Ende doch ein Scheisschor) sagt: Sicher, Dicker, aber dafür rutscht Du fröhlich in den Youtube/Netflix-Konsum ab. Und behält recht.

    To a degree, what has changed is that I no longer need to sort myself clearly in that win/loss, clean/comsumer dichotomy. That affords me less moral friction in the regret department. these self punishing mechanics are getting corroded by the acid of use it /lose it. Don't know if that is worth it. cannot assess worth/damage reliably at the moment.

    There is some level of panic somewhere deep in my brain, but it gets blanketed by that white noise that I live in at the moment. And panic isn't a very useful thing anyways, not in this.

    Okay, dude. Let it go. You're not getting any wiser typing today. Was a nice try and at least you were able to traion your brain a tiny bit. Now hit post button and accept that this is more or less just a useless ramble.

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