How regrets are born

Even as I am beginning my life in university, I have still had moments where I see someone or something I develop a fascination with, but hesitate to pursue or interact with. There have still been times where I have seen a girl I might be interested in talking to, usually because of something I notice about her that , but for no good reason I refrain from talking to her. I can’t think of a reason, I just hesitate. And then, as you might guess, I start to feel some regret.

Opportunity can cross our paths at any time, and when we see the chance, we should try our best to take it. If we leave some opportunities to pass, we might not get another chance at it again. Reflecting on my situation, I think it’s best to just dive in. Perhaps not too brashly, but I can’t hesitate when I see an interesting possibility come my way. It might go well for me, it might not, but you don’t want to be left in a spot where all you can do is think about what could have been.

Lust, fear, mortification, and shame

Yesterday for me has been in a small way a day of personal shame, and of renewal. Last month I began to develop a worry that indulging in a personal pleasure (you know the kind I mean, I just prefer to be discreet) would hamper me feeling attracted to people in real life. Since then I thought of temporarily abstaining for a while, but it has not been working. All it did was make me feel anxious and want release even more. And eventually I learned that I was wrong, that there was no evidence of my worry being valid.

When I looked back, I remembered that I had one or two crushes, and before that I still indulged regularly (not all the time though), so apparently it didn’t affect anything and I worried about my normal habits for nothing. I felt ashamed that I was effectively mortifying myself for nothing, all because of the fear that sometimes overcomes me, a fear of what might happen to me in the future and how things might turn out for me.

I felt such shame for that near-betrayal, and gratitude for the guy who answered my questions, that now I feel back in my ways, safe in the knowledge that I don’t really have an addictive personality anyway, and in my realization of my mistake.

Love and a Tantric kind of alchemy

Once again I feel like referring to my late holiday, specifically the wedding party I attended on Saturday of two weeks ago. I found myself seated at a table with one of my brothers and two of my cousins plus their respective boyfriends. We sat down in conversation about an array of subjects, and one of them was the subject of love and relationships.

One of the guys, naturally, asked if I had a girlfriend and I told him that I didn’t, along with my general predicament. To me delight, I found they were rather supportive and assured me that the time will come. We both discussed the idea of negativity melting away in love and intimacy and the power of love to bring our darkest desires to brightest places. Desires are thus not suppressed or sublimated, but rather they are directed towards, or transmuted into, joy and bliss. As soon as we got to that point, I mentioned that this was the principle of Tantra, in which so-called sinful desires and essences can become bliss, joy, even enlightenment.

It was very interesting for me to think of it that way, because at least there is a viable connect to Hindu and Buddhist ideas. It means allowing my self to experience a transformation pertaining to my desires without surrendering my desires. It offers a new perspective, that we should keep our desires so that they may grow into bliss and be directed towards greater dignity, love, and joy.

Of course, this can only be an experiential phenomenon. I can try to imagine it but I still long for the experience of it. I cannot take comfort in a mere theoretical analysis of such a phenomenon.

Lust, love, relationships, depression, and angst

Yesterday I’ve been feeling very sad, and I even cried a little, while doing some retrospective editing on the blog. I was thinking about lust and love, my past and present attitudes towards them, how no one taught me anything when I became a teenager, and how I have had not fulfilled my desires (love included). It all made me feel depressed for a while, for many reasons.

I thought about how things in the past were influencing foolish ideas in me and casanova fantasies, despite that all I really wanted was a girlfriend who would accept me for who I am, support me, and help me fulfil my desires, and whom I would love back for all of that. When I was younger I was being conditioned and kept in a bubble against the more mature and darker aspects of the world that I would now glamorize. This also meant a kind of artificially created naivety regarding sex that came from the bubble, and when my mom tried to teach me anything when I was 13-14, I was a scared off and my mom gave up on me. In high school we only got one sex education class, and whatever lessons it offered were never reinforced. Don’t be confused, I know the score, but no thanks to the people around me who were supposed to teach me when I was becoming a teenager. Anyways, not one person taught me anything substantial about relationships back when I could have needed it when I was 13-16 years old. Don’t people know that you’re supposed to talk to young people about these things, and in a frank and open manner? Of course in recent years I’ve been learning about handling relationships (no thanks to my parents, school, or TV), but this is because I have friends who I can trust. Can you imagine how things would be for me if I learned from family at a younger age and they hadn’t given up on me?

Reflecting on it, I felt like my suffering was really the fault of the environment I was in, the bubble they were raising around me, and the attitudes towards sex present in the society I live in, which were either prudish, stuck-up, nervous, preachy, or condescending (or at least that’s how I felt, but even today I don’t trust society’s attitudes). I felt like my anguish and loneliness what not have been there if it weren’t for that. But then, I can’t put all the blame on the outside world and people around me. After all, in this case, there’s plenty of the blame that rests with myself. I mean think about it: when I was 13-14 years old, I was reclusive, I hardly trusted anyone around me, much less people in general. I wanted most people to leave me alone (though I didn’t have that attitude towards immediate classmates). I was wary of people’s obnoxiousness a lot, and was put off by other guys being obnoxious and seemingly thick-headed and oafish or brutish. I could tell I was nothing like them nor did I want to be that way.. I trusted my parents and family members even less (except for my brother with whom I was still usually friends with), same with most grown-ups. I just wanted to be in my own world and be happy there, and I felt like everyone was trying to drag me out of it for no good reason. To me it seemed like the adults who tried to help me were always so forceful and chaperone-ish, even if for all I knew they probably weren’t (or at least didn’t try to be that way). Who I am as you know it may have found its way to the outside world, but I think I was only comfortable expressing it at home or with a few trusting people. And of course, only a few people understood my feelings or even cared. And of course, I was pretty susceptible to either foolish ideas or foolish interpretations of good ideas, that or I just didn’t think on the same level of what we might call maturity as I do now. Thank gods I didn’t actually get to the point where I’d be breaking hearts everywhere I went.

The entire picture made be pretty damn depressed yesterday, thinking about how I and the world around me ruined things for me them by keeping me in the dark and by me staying reclusive and private, and how lack of education and openness about the things that really mattered to me as a young person (and still matter today) has scarred me personally. Now these scars might be healing, or if not they will soon, I still keep a youthful spirit or try to do so, I still have my lust, and as I keep saying a million times, I still support casual sex, lustful desires, sexual permissiveness and people’s right to choose their lifestyles, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking in that time about these things and I don’t reckon I’ll be thinking about them the same way.

And by the way, let the word be be known: sex education is important for young people, no doubt about it, and don’t give up on them, otherwise they end up as ignorant wrecks, and they may not regret it immediately, but they will soon. We as people must never forget to teach our youth that sex and lust aren’t evil, and how to handle sex, love, and relationships.

Promiscuity

The idea of being a rascal may appeal to both lust and a fondness of female company, and because of this I have often fantasized about it. But these days it seems to me like little more than a delightful fantasy, although maybe a little less delightful and less of a satisfying feeling. Why? Because the fantasy does not relate to my experiences, or even my desires.

Think about it, if I want love from a person, and that person could offer all that I could ever want, then what’s the point of desiring to have the same luck a rock star might get? Come to think of it, that could of fortune is tantalizing and fun but it doesn’t relate to my feelings, my fortune, or a bottom line of mine. As of late, the life embodied by the Charlie Sheens of the world seems unworthy, beyond my reality, and useless in the face of actual love, and above all, after review regarding my own character, actually unlike my own character. I can be lustful, sure, but I have many characteristics that the womanizer doesn’t have. For starters I’m not suave, I have no interest in solely the material, and I’m capable of seeing that there is all manner of lust that can be fulfilled with only one partner. And what would it be worth if all you’d do is give everyone the false image that you see women as objects to be use, and to top it of you’d never be able to convince anyone to shake that off of people and convince them you actually see them as people. Besides, it’s all too complicated. Wouldn’t a good relationship be simple?

And say you were a lethario? How are you sure anyone would care about your actual personality and what you had to say about the world? Only someone who loves you and you actually love would care, and good luck finding that while being devious. That’s another thing: think about the word devious for a minute. It out and out implies underhandedness towards women, and my entire life I’ve hated that.

I would still support sexual permissiveness, freedom of choice of lifestyle, and openness and open-mindedness in our social culture, but here I talk about personal fantasies, desires, and what would actually work for me.

What’s my future?

Three days ago, something happened during the afternoon, in my mind which would trouble and affect me deeply.

I was walking by and I saw this girl who was at her phone, and it seemed she was in a very sad and tearful mood, as though something was deeply troubling her. Some time later, while sitting in class, she reappeared walking behind my seat to approach a class mate of mine. It was then that she hugged him, and the two walked out of the room. After a few minutes I left the room briefly to put away some resources I no longer needed, it was then that I bumped into the same two again, though not approaching them. I overheard the girl mention to him about “same old excuses” and telling him to “grow up”, and that’s when it came to me that this was an argument (though not really a vicious one) between the two about their relationship. I swerved away from them to avoid feeling like I was prying into their personal lives, thankfully under a convenient pretext regarding academic finance, but when I arrived at the studio I found them again, and it seemed the same thing was going on. After going about my business in the studio, I stopped and I began to worry in a negative manner, is that my future?

After seeing the two I began to worry. I had remembered that the same girl came to me some time before trying to tell me that the same class mate of mine had been cheating on her, and how he told her that he loved her, would stick by her, and wanted to marry her, only for him to go and have sex with another girl (unfortunately I was unable to console her in any way), followed by a seemingly generic comment on how men are all the same (with the implied connotation of them all being pigs). With the memory of my classmates relationship, and him cheating on her and hurting her, and then arguing with her (probably in vain), there came to me the disturbing fear that eventually I might next in line for the slaughter. For some reason, I began to fear I may end up doing the same things as him in a future relationship. I began to fear and ask myself, is this my future? To fall in love with a girl and start a relationship with her, only to hurt her, beg for forgiveness, and have to justify myself on a certain or constant basis?

Immediately I thought “I don’t want that kind of future”, but at the same time I worried about what exactly I wanted. I still want love in life, and am still attracted to the idea of someone to spend my days with in bliss before I get old and eventually pass away, someone I’ll be exactly as I am and want with, someone who won’t dominate me at every turn within a relationship, but at the same time I wonder not merely if I’ll ever find that someone, but  just I’d end up doing, worrying that it will play out or end the same way, and that I may end up doing some begging or grovelling just for that awesome experience of love and devotion. And though I certainly don’t intend to get married, you don’t need marriage to love someone or prove that love, just as much as you don’t need marriage to screw up a relationship or get screwed yourself and feel the same way afterwards. Then you have the whole “how am I going to raise a family and kids without being as a coercive figure and being the same as everyone else is as a parent?”, which plagues me in the same way as the question of how am I going to survive the realm of relationships while avoiding the same ideas and patterns as the majority, avoiding betraying myself, or ending up with the same people I have no interest in? Still consistent is the memory of love making me do stupid things, and the instinctive worry that it will or could happen again.

Often times I think I might be better off just shaking off love in favor of an endless pursuit of lustful encounters till I die, and without the dishonesty and shallowness employed by the likes of, say, Charlie Harper, but what fruits would that bring besides constant carnal gratification, and would I really have any hope of grasping that life? And what would it be worth anyway? I don’t know, and for all I know I am doomed not to know for absolute certainty.

Whenever I see two young people in a real relationship of love I feel kinda sad and jealous, and when I see or feel it fall apart I begin the fear the same will inevitably happen to me, and I feel in my soul that I can’t just blindly accept that, go with the flow, and accept whatever happens as though I never thought about anything to begin with. The alternative, a less deceptive incarnation of Charlie Harper’s life style, would seem just fine until I start to find it deeply unfulfilling or start hurting women, which is not honourable for me to do.

You may be reading this and thinking I present no real hope for myself, or even yourself if you’re in a similar situation, but I don’t think of myself as completely pessimistic. I have an idea of what want, or hope for to be more apt, but I worry for how it would unfold for me in this world. Maybe that makes me pessimistic, but I’m not absolutely pessimistic. The only thing that might separate me from the average seeker of love is that I’m thinking, I’m processing thoughts, I’m trying not to be a dope about it, I’m trying not to succumb to the same failure and misery. I don’t want to enter into something where I end up a slave only to be chewed out, but at the same time I want something really wonderful that I’ve wanted for what feels like my whole life.

If I ever love again

If I ever have a girlfriend again, or love again, then I should make it a goal to stay strong and fulfill my love with no tolerance for weakness in my heart (and preferably without making a slave of myself too). Why? Because for one I find it pathetic that people are so weak-hearted about their love, but it’s also because I myself was weak of heart in my past crushes and I have no desire to repeat the same mistake again. If I have feelings for someone and I’m convinced the time is right, I will tell her that without mincing words. And I have a feeling there will be few greater satisfactions equal to that glorious moment where I in some way fulfill what I believe in and improve myself at the same time, not in the sense of changing myself, but in the sense of actualization and fulfillment.