This coupled with other social issues including the sale of audiovisual sexual services and the acts themselves destroys the concept of love making. I can understand that masturbation comes from curiosity and later, if not concurrently, an individual learns of sexual pleasure and that people in fact pleasure each other sexually as well. Unfortunately during this time, society feels the need to hide nudity at the cost of destroying some sort of innocence. Naturists don't walk around with erections having sex with anything that moves. Clothes are a man made cover of something that is not man made.
Of course this is all confusing during adolescence and the discovery of sexual pleasure and organs and during this time of uncertainty even young people are known to don clothing during this period of their lives.
Basically I feel that I'm sexually confused. There is emphasis on taboo in society and the real focus is sexual orientation and stereotypes like genres of pornography. I don't care about my orientation, but I have a problem with these sales of artificial audiovisual pleasure. Even years of avoiding pornography has recently sent me crawling back and I have began a phone sex escapade I desperately seek to escape. I'm just further burying myself in a social context. I should be outside, fearless of my body and other people's opinions (as if anyone really cares anyway). I should be exploring myself during these times of independence and yet I sit and squander my time looking for cheap thrills and ways to avoid dealing with reality.
Moving out to Oregon should be a great opportunity to express who I think I am and learn who I really am, but all I feel is the anxiety of inadequacy every where I go. I'm not clean enough, tough enough, smart enough, free enough, happy enough, sad enough, depressed enough, motivated, premeditated, over-medicated enough. Everywhere I go I am the short end of everything, and what I really realized yesterday, and what I really believe is that I will always feel this way living the way I do. Even if I worked out and gained lots of muscles and lost a bunch of fat I would still feel inferior. I have made no progress, and what's difficult is the ability to understand and accept that I have made no real progress. Of everything I learn about myself, I have to step back and realize what I'm really doing. I'm avoiding exploration of hobbies and skills and events just to avoid dealing with who I am, afraid of what I really might be.
Unfortunately, it appears there is a rock bottom, or at least a breaking point where we just snap out of these ruts. The hard part is waiting, but the problem is I can't just sit here and wait. I have to take this time and appreciate living. I have to allow myself to be ripped off, take risks, be made fun of, ridiculed, abandoned, loved. If to love myself is to permit a respectable and prideful life, I have to start.
Basically it has to start here. I have to take what I see as a social deformity as merely a difference. And if I don't like my expectations I have to change them, but the only way to change them is to become acquainted with these different outlooks I respect and expose myself to the other side. Maybe it's ironic I sit here typing this to nobody (you'll notice most of these will be emotional, so please disregard inconsistencies, I am as a human being, inconsistent), but I need to declare these things for myself. This information is on the internet for anybody to see, and some of the information here I'm afraid for people to know about.
I went to the Oregon Country fair yesterday and I'm about to go again today out in Veneta. It was therapeutic to leave Eugene as well, since I felt like I was exploring a bit. The mentality there made me feel like I grew up in the wrong region of the United States. It's not like a topless women with hands and trees painted on her breasts or a man with a masquerade mask and a green dress is going to call me a faggot for wearing yellow pants or a Cat in the Hat hat. I think I'm a coward because I'm spineless, but it has to be worse if you're afraid of admitting you're spineless. I'm not an overly rude person, I just seem snobby because I'm so uncomfortable with myself I assume other people taking with me have some sort of hostile agenda, or will become extremely displeased at interacting with me.
Today I'm going to wear shorts and and T-shirt. I'm sick of this long pants and sleeves charade. Who cares if my forearms are ill-developed or if my calves are fat and hairless or even that my skin may be too light? In fact, how would someone with white and pasty skin get a tan? They have to first get into the sun and deal with any criticism or observation. I've spent so much of my life trying to not be observed, but it's impossible and just breeds anxiety. No one cares that I'm fat or have blemishes, and in fact the only way I'll loose weight is if I go out and exercise where somebody might see me. Who cares if I'm listening to music or carrying a camera? I'm respectful enough would be polite if confronted. Why feel guilty if I don't even have intent to do anything to feel guilty about?
I feel stupid.
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