the sense of touch as new.
as i crushed empty boxes at the cellar, boxes of bottles ranging from 3% to 60% abv, i felt new. not good new, though it didn't matter at all. how many wine boxes have i broken down in the last 3 years? maybe 1,000. but now, i knew i was new, i felt under the gun, under pressure, under some kind of superficial standardization. could i be messing this up? i felt like i may have been doing it wrong. -i'm sure i wasn't- though the feeling was still there. crushing boxes, meant for compacting, recycling, disappearance. boring work. . . . . . . i couldn't help but think of intimate touch, that which brings skin amongst itself, and how if it's missing for some time the alien qualities come back. you forget what a kiss feels like. a real kiss.
and then when it comes back, we think 'yes, o h y e s t h a t's what it felt like!', like it never left but the spinal shake did. a jet just flew overhead, and i didn't even notice.
that happened at one point, well, many points, within the last relationship. as it broke down; then a semblance of structure came climbing to touch, we were scared to touch. when it happened it seemed new and therefore somewhat sacred. the empty room that was our relationship vaccumed sunlight from reflection. or maybe that's just my perception.
regardless, our touch felt new, but it was not. i longed (and still long) for that new touch. i have crushes, 1.5 of them at the moment. round down, for sanity's/slash/society's sake. and i feel like continuing this stale touch with the un-won lover would be, if nothing else, unfair to my current crushes. crush.
i file boxes, major and familiar brands on the larger shelving. the odd-ball beers go down the hall. most bin wines stay near the conveyor, destined for higher things, a quick shelf-life, rapid turnover, but sub-par reviews. keep in the chilled section for a better taste, more appropriate for meals, better to bring home for dinner. sale items get labels stripped each and every tuesday night. and each day i work, i get more and more and more used to every one of these small insignificant easy details. and how the routine keeps me grounded, it only keeps the longing for flight ever present.
perhaps i'll talk 'speech' next.
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10 comments:
Is sex about our bodies? If so, we should find new ways of touching ourselves. But obviously, it isn't strickly physical. I guess if you remove emotion from physical contact then you also lose desire...hum...I guess that's what I'm shooting for...kidding.
well, who has ever been able to remove emotion from physical contact? I can't even remove it from breathing.
Yeah, weird huh? We're SO emotional.
When I swim I get VERY emotional about breathing.
I remeber reading something Freshman year that Freud wrote about what prevents us from stilling around all day and masturbating...Des, do you know what I'm talking about? Whatever he wrote, I think I'd understand it now.
remember
hm, i have having trouble finding the link, the spark if you will between physical and emotional attraction. i find that i'm overwhelmingly emotionally attracted to the boys wandering about in my life these days. i love them and want to high five them and hug them and cuddle and maybe even play a video game or something. i want to be pals with them. i've found that i'm not sexually attracted to them. i'm purely emotionally attracted. i don't think that i've ever come across a pattern such as this ever in my life, and i think that it's turning into a pattern. i can't find the spark. is it because all these men usually tend to have an alcohol problem? that definitely take away from my physical attraction... i'm rambling... sorry matt... why do i keep going for boys that are disconnected in some why, may it be by booze, distance, or whatever...
this is really good
in summation, i'd say that in my life, i've found the emotional bond to me MUCH more important than the physical one. in everyday things, but also in sexual relationships. i think we need that emotional bond much more, we even 'feel' it more than sexual pleasure. it's funny, how we always divorce emotions from physicality, but it creates so much of what we consider to be physical.
i think: you can fuck someone (anyone!), you can self pleasure, jerk off, jag off, stop, touch, feel, cut or burn, you'll feel it nonetheless, but only in transition. connect with someone emotionally and it'll stay for much longer, make the body feel better in total. just my thoughts.
yeah, but what happens when this happens: so i made out with and ended up having bad sex with a boy that i want to be my friend. he has thus become emotionally distant with me and i don't think he trusts me at all, due to my lack of further intimacy. to me, i was expressing my emotional, deep intrinsic longing for closeness, my excitement to have found a kindred being in my new life, it was the natural progression for me, but then afterward, it was so disappointing that my mind wandered back to my last really good do, and my heart just crushed in my own hand like a not quite frozen ice cube. i felt as though i had let my emotion run away with my physicality to an undesired effect, a selfish physical based want. i suppose it's easier to let this happen when immersed in newness in a place i feel so good... it's because my emotion wasn't fully developed, i guess.
I've learned (in my life) that it is not necessary to dissect the emotional from the physical...they are completely indiscrete, if one would like to get statistical about it. I reject reductionism in the name of the complexity and amiguity that is living. What's non-physical and what is physical? What is a thought and what is an emotion? One might not expect such little answers from a 'scientist' but indeed, THE MORE YOU KNOW!
Yes, meg, I remember. It was in "civilization and its discontents" which I just happened to pull off my bookshelf the other day.
not a coincidence.
despite the typo's:
oh yes; i 'gree with desi.
as per usual.
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