The other night I found myself in the awkward company of five lovely women. Two of them I have kissed. One sends me messages through an intermediary that she really digs me. And I think the other two would give me the honor of having sweet sex — if I made an effort. But why should I? What would be the point? Would I feel any better? Would THEY feel better?
***
When I came back to Peru four years ago I was completely spent. Basically I came to Cusco to lay down my head and die. My last hope for Love had failed in spectacular fashion. I could tolerate life without money, possessions and people but not HER. Impossible! Unbearable.
***
I started to think about the sordid history of my interactions with the opposite sex. (After you go to Machu Picchu a dozen times, there’s not much else to do here but think all day.) I was simultaneously shocked, and not so surprised, to discover that I could write sincere love letters to tens of women I know, or barely know, or even to those I’ve never seen except for their photos on Facebook. There may be hundreds of them. Potentially millions.
I could express various degrees of love, some less, some more, but there would be no doubt that everything I say to them would be absolutely from the heart. How could that be? What kind of insanity is this? What the fuck’s wrong with me? Is it me or is it men? I’m going to speak for all men and say it’s just me, just to get you off the hook, but do give it some thought.
***
There’s hardly a night I don’t go out with a different woman. There are only a few restaurants we go to so I’m sure the waiters think I’m the biggest player in town. If they only knew. I’m just having a good time without a hint of sex. I’m always careful not to cross the line between being friendly and flirtatious. No playing footsie under the table. No grabbing the hand in the movie theater. And certainly no sexting.
Sex is not out of my mind. Oh no. I just ignore it. Run from it. I just can’t let myself act like a robot in heat anymore. I hate to be manipulated and hormones are the worst. They yank me around like a pet chimp and I’ve had enough.
Screw you dick!
***
The problem is that sex ruins everything for me. Or should I say I ruin everything after sex? When the ecstasy ends in climax I usually, often, almost always, experience a dramatic loss of interest in the woman I just made passionate love to. And it doesn’t get any better as time goes by. I never thought about this pattern before. I just kept doing it. I have a penis, therefore I have sex.
Now it seems absurd. I laugh at my unquenchable sex drive and how easily it can be quenched. I pleasure myself to a catalogue of women who turn me on and it’s over in a couple of minutes. Before the poison leaves my testicles, I love them all. All in earnest. Then when it’s over, it’s over.
***
Crashed and burned by Love, what has risen from my ashes is not a phoenix but a tree. All I need is nourishment from the earth and warmth from the sun. I don’t crave anything. I don’t miss anything. I’m not searching for anything, or anyone. Just “being” is divine.
***
My hormones remind me I’m not a tree. Sooner or later they will break my resolve to resist women’s touch. As Chris Rock once joked, men can’t run fast enough to escape the clutches of sex. When I lose the race, I just hope and pray it’s not just because I’m a man and she’s a woman - again.
As Rumi put it, “Somewhere beyond man and woman, there is Eternal Love. I will meet you there.” The poor guy said no such thing. But I’m there.
Going so public with your love affair was pretty stupid. No writer writes about love as a live broadcast of his or her personal life. But hey, this was the kind of love you had. It could probably fail if it remained private either.
It is timely to say you need a royal wedding!
What you are suffering from JJ is High Altitude Syndrome or Alta Altitud Sindrome in Spanish which prevents the flow of the proper amount of oxygen to your vital organs, your dick and your brain (in that order), hence the lack of desire to have regular sex with multiple beautiful women.
Fortunately, there is remedy for you which is to move down to the sea level, set aside all the philosophical bullshit that you are exposing yourself to, get in touch with your inner horny, sex-deprived Abadani self, and get out there and make a big splash!
As always, take a few pictures and post them here.
Thanks Benross & Faramarz :)
May I cordially invite our resident psychologist, Dr. Zolfali to help our beloved JJ come out of his painfully confining closet and start fucking himself?
First of all why don't you write a book? I think you will do well and secondly you should move somewhere with happy hours everyday, somewhere where sun means happiness, somewhere where everyone is happier than Cusco somewhere like Spain.
As I have said many times before, sex is 20% about your own pleasure and 80% about bragging to your buddies. And since you have isolated and barricaded yourself in that corner of the world, you have completely diminished any incentive for the 80% proposition. Let’s face it, you are on high grounds in Cusco, but not on high moral ground.
See, your behavior is easily explainable!
OK :))
JJ joonam,
I always loved your open mind and open writing about yourself.
I'm not a phychologist but, from what I have read and experienced in life, I guess your case is not unique!
It's the case for many men who were in love (deeply) with their mom as a child and a young man. But for some reason they have been frustrated....
So they try to find their mom's love in every woman (especially the older ones) but once you sleep with them, you lose your interest (a man does/should not sleep with his mom)
The feeling of "what for?" and "I hate her now" comes from there.
Hopefully, you are getting old now and the problem will fade soon :))
Don't worry, we all have our demons....
Take care my friend
Thank you Souri Jan. I haven't said anything about hating anyone. I said I hate being a slave to hormones. Thanks again for your thoughts.
You are not any different to the rest of us:
To have a penis is to be chained to a madman.
Good to see you writing again. Changing the channel or escapism did not quite work out?
Sorry Jahanshan,
When I said "hating her" I was talking in general, not about you (I don't know your just feeling after sex :))
But many male friends including family members, said that when they sleep with a woman, a few hours later they start to hate her, for no reason.
I think (maybe) this comes from the feeling of "guilt" which is associated and rooted in our fucking culture....LOL
Have a good one.
... I remember someone asking Sophocles, the poet, whether he was still capable of enjoying a woman. ‘Don’t talk in that way,’ he answered; ‘I am only too glad to be free of all that; it is like escaping from bondage to a raging madman.’ I thought that a good answer at the time, and I still think so; for certainly a great peace comes when age sets us free from passions of that sort.
Ah thanks Fozolie. Good to know (some) men have felt the same for ages :)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q1MmYVcDyMs
https://www.google.co.jp/search?q=why+you+joe+purdy&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&hl=en-jp&client=safari
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drTaEJcPeJc