A place for a

14.01.2016

Pussy, the dangling carrot

A phallic symbol like the carrot is overly hard-pressed to represent a pussy and yet this fertile bosom, this female soul which I so desperately want to pee my semen into always seemed like that to me. The more I want it, the more intense my desire for sexual catharsis, the more absolute seems my conviction that I will never get it.

I wrote about it before, in a slightly different manner.

It is a cruel, weird and illogical mindset. Is it even a mindset? Can this conundrum overlapping complexities, of self-cancelling frequencies in my mind be called a set up? Or rather pure disorder?

Yet this deserves its own short article. I already decided that I am not further interested in boxing my way through to pussy just for meaningless notches in my own carrot and this theme of being forbidden something absolutely desirable simply for it being absolute desirable keeps coming up.

I think it can be summed up with the idea of a quasi-communistic – that is, delusional – great leap forward. The externally encouraged hope that if one keeps acting moronically, one will eventually reach that which is desired.

And what is that? What is that highest desirable thing? It is to be fully and unrestrainedly yourself and still loved and desired for or despite it.

And yes, to put myself in her vagina, to fully feel the implication of me practically filling her up with a bodily fluid of mine while looking into her eyes without feeling ashamed or guilty. And to see her pleasure. Yes, that is definitely the goal. This full awareness of the depth of the intimacy that is being enacted and yet to still be full of love. Not to just try to get past it as quickly as possible. But to look in her eyes and communicate: You are an individual confident person. You know this and I know it. And yet, in this moment, I own you. I own you because I fill you up through the same canal I use for peeing.

Some time ago I wrote a mail to Mike Cernovich and asked him what sexual desire feels like. I did not get an answer – and that is cool – but it is not as straight-forward as it seems, right? What does sex mean to you? Do you use it to run away or to explore?

Are you fully aware of all that happens or do you push away so-called shameful aspects of it all? Are you confident about being in your body? About your genitals? About your asshole and getting it licked? About expressing your desires even when they do not get fulfilled? Hell, first time sex, I did not even really feel my dick. Weird.

So anyway, the dangling carrot.

Me, the baby, wants affection and attention. Mother tells me who I need to be to get it. Or somebody else does. They keep telling me you can do it, you can do it!

But whenever I do it, nothing comes back at all. No return of investment.

It is a bit like that communistic Great Leap Forward. Keep working. Arbeit macht frei.

They know what I want. They know I want it desperately. But it is not to be had. It is being teased, but never consumed. Not by me, anyway. Sounds pretty paranoid, right?

But as it always is at some point, those voices of others become your own. And then the pattern is already integrated and an internal voice projected onto everybody you meet.

A girl flirtingly says hey, big boy to tease me and throws a few indicators of interest. And my mind automatically concludes that this is really just a mask to hide the fact that she would never even consider sleeping with me. That she is a goddess that is actually sexless. Only towards me, of course.

That does not make any sense, naturally. What is so special about me? Oh well.

So I thought about this and concluded that this is a great way to condition a slave. Show him something he wants, but tell him that it cannot be had, unless he does this and that. But this and that actually keeps him from getting it. Then tell him to try harder. And the poor sob will never even understand that cruelty.

Manipulation can only exist thanks to ignorance.

Whatever I truly deeply desire is only there for me to be able to work towards it or to submit to it as an ideal – but never to be reached. The Great Leap Forward that never comes. The breakthrough that is never achieved. Because I am paddling in the wrong direction. Or for other reasons.

True happiness does not exist. How many people have you heard that say? And I bet that even when you think of that term, you probably do not dare to have it encompass everything you truly desire in its fullness. One’s own desires sometimes need a little discovery work.

But if you have never been happy, how can you believe anything but that the world is a dark ugly place with a few masks of pretense? That happiness and real satisfaction does not exist? How can you even know what happiness is, when you never felt it?

Update 15.01.2015: What is this article about? It is about the paranoid delusion that nature and girls have conspired to intentionally manufacture in me the wish for something that does not exist or that they do not want to ever give me. Just to torture me. Of course, being in the delusion, I ironically do not yet know whether it truly is an delusion. An open mind must always be prepared to accept even the absurd. This is an important observation, because it affirms the law of attraction. Since Mother was a singular person, the experiences with her seem like an absolute omen. And yes, in the context of this article, that hints at some kind of Oedipal complex. The wish for body-touch and embrace intimacy in love with mother.

This article is also about a type of relationship where you keep trying, because you imagine catharsis and relief if you keep doing something particular. That catharsis is self-confidence and self-love. At a young age, it must be affirmed and provided by mother. Later, by oneself. But whatever one got in childhood – nothing noteworthy in my case – one later attracts and reenacts in his own life.

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  • Micah Geni

    With all the info out there on the net these days (we are actually lucky), ignorance is little less but an act of free will. A little less free will, if one is a victim of governmental drug pushing from young age, the Ritalin generation and such drugs.

    Tom, you seen pictures of Tesla ? He looks a bit like you. You know him ? You from Venus, as they say he is (was) ?

    http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NGvmZstMeBs/TiOjWBIJHsI/AAAAAAAAIZI/oCPcpuD6Fwc/s1600/nikolatesla3.jpg

    • Cute! But he does not look like me at all.

  • I am not sure what to take away from all this, Tom. A little part of me wants to reach out and slap the shit out of you, just a little.

    I am not going to get too preachy, but I want you to know that you are fighting something that cannot be fought.

    I have watched a friend of mine go back and forth from hating women, to smothering one with a ridiculous amount of attention. He would say his bitterness lay in the fact that women have to do literally NOTHING to achieve what they want sexually, and we as men have to do an insane amount of shit to get what we want from them. But really he is just weak and utterly dependent on the thing that women can provide. When he does not have it, he is angry, like an addict. When he has it, he is happy, like an addict. He has not learned to control his addiction. The only difference between him and you is nothing really. Other than the fact that he does play the game a bit more. Approaches, works out, dresses well, etc…

    The thing is, I was no different. The loathing and rage is something I remember all too well, but I got over it. I did it by accepting how things are, and playing the game.

    It is not going to change. The only thing you can do is pull your head out of your ass, and start making some real progress towards achieving the thing that you want. The thing we all want. The thing that is hardwired into us.

    • Slap me? Is that an invitation to sparring?

      Well, this article is really about my belief systems and how they interact with the world.

      I like the point you make about the drug addict. Ironically, it fits very well. Even having sex may not be very fulfilling as long as there is no peace within the self.

  • Smokingjacket

    I’m not sure you know what you desire in a woman? Is it a state of pure release? Is it a state of temporary negation or disembodiment from your self or a return to some type of primary mother-son relationship that you cannot act upon?

    • Yes, that is probably a part of it. I added a few lines about it in the article.