"Make Love"
Who ever came up with that phrase should eat those words.
Strike that, anyone who ever miss-used those words should be made to shove them up their arse.
Fucking is a much more accurate description of a majority of the sex that occurs these days.
Maybe once it was an expression of love... though I've had my doubts since obese young.
Sex isn't even about reproduction. It's about fulfilling a selfish, primal desire for satisfaction.
So why do we link it to love?
They say that it's the closest you can be to someone; being literally inside them, or having them inside you.
But that's only physical, and love is metaphysical...
So perhaps if we look at the reverse...
We are supposed to love the people that we have intercourse with so that we feel the urge to protect the bearer of our child... though how that explains women loving the men...?
I suppose love is built up on trust, and you have to trust someone before they touch or invade your most sensitive, intimate parts; literally letting them inside you...
So, if the roots of sex are truly in Love, where has that gone?
When did sex become a commodity?
And why?
Did the free market really open our ideals so far? Or did we already view the body as product - ready to be packaged and sold off to the highest bidder.
You may be thinking 'Lauren, what the hell are you going on about? Where is all this coming from?'
So, let me deviate a little and explain where this thought process begins.
Today (well, I suppose since it's early Wednesday morning I should say last night) we watched Requiem for a Dream.
It's odd, interesting, kinda sick... and feeds brilliantly into Naked Lunch - the text I'm currently studying for Film and Literature. It's about drugs, drug addiction, and the things people do for drugs.
There are four main story lines in the film. That of an abused girl turned drugie, her boyfriend and his best friend who are users and wannabe-dealers (one of them a heavy user, the other more controlled), and the mother of said boyfriend - who gets hooked on 'dieting pills'. Shan't give too much away in case you want to see the film and haven't as of yet (also, if you have seen the film, you don't need a break down of it anyway).
Basically, lots of bad stuff happens to the four of them (individually and together) and part of the film really got to me on a personal level.
Now, if you've read many of my older, rambling posts you'll know that I've been through some bad stuff when it comes to men, relationships, etcetera etcetera...
So, when this girl gets talked into sleeping with people for money/drugs (again, by the connotations and context) I instantly got that gut - OMG - feeling.
That feeling of totally understanding. Of feeling the indignity, the disgust, and the necessity of it all.
"Can you turn the lights off?" She asks
"You never wanted them off before." The naked man behind her replies, sprawled out on the bed, waiting for her to disrobe. She can't turn and look at him. Her eyes stay focused firmly some point far away, trying not to feel. Trying so hard not to think.
"I know, but... please?"
What should it matter to him anyway? It's not as if he wants to look. All he wants is to take. To use her body and satisfy his own lust. He doesn't need to see. He knows where everything is. Hasn't he seen enough?
"Okay" He acquiesces, dimming the lights as she begins to remove her top. She still can't look.
Because now she knows what love is. Now she's felt love.
How do you go back on that?
How do you go back on feeling whole, and worth something?
Needs must.
I guess that's the thing.
When her boyfriend calls the last time, and begs her to wait for him. To not go and be used just so she can get another fix. To not be nothing... it's the innocence in her voice when she asks
"Can you come today?"
Which need is greater? That of love, or that of drugs?
You never find out.
Not in the film at least.
There's these looks she has during the film, and they remind me of feelings - of times - of places. Times and places I'd rather had never happened, have never been...
I'm laid in bed next to him, feeling utterly void. It's like being dead inside.
I've given up. I may as well just give up. I may as well just give him what he wants.
I've given him my body, my soul has disappeared, my heart is broken in a million pieces... I may as well just give him the rights to this and have done.
The thought of being his girlfriend again makes some echo of me want to cry.
I text my best friend, telling him I'm giving up, giving in, letting him have me back again.
It's not as if I can feel anyway - it's not as if it matters.
He's asleep, or at least resting.
I can't lay next to him for some reason right now. I get up and sleep walk to the kitchen where I take the call from my friend, who berates some feeling back into me.
I cry in the kitchen for so long I get scared he'll come find me.
I want to hide... but he's in my bed... in my room... in my house.
If I could leave him here, I would... but I don't want to come back to him.
Don't want to go back to being nothing after feeling what love really is.
It's not as if all of my experiences have been bad though.
There's plenty I've convinced myself were wonderful.
"We didn't have sex, Li; we made Love..." - me trying to convince either Li (or myself) that I'm in love with Will
"But it feels so right. It doesn't even hurt..." - me trying to convince one of us that DJ could be the man I loved
"But he loves me..." - possibly my worst excuse for 'loving' someone
I look around, and all I see is this desperate need for satisfaction.
One night stands.
Fuck-buddies.
Friends with benefits.
Open relationships.
Hell, even some relationships are just an excuse for satisfying needs!
So here I am, loosing faith in the world while we sell our selves to the highest bidder (well, not even the highest sometimes).
That's why I enjoy spending my time with Libor and Mathieu.
Because, with them, there's none of that.
There's no sub clause, no cost, no conditions...
They never treat me like a commodity, or an unnecessary part.
They're just cuddly, and nice, and wonderful.
Why isn't everyone like that?
Why aren't all boys so considerate? So kind? So HUMAN??
Why aren't girls either??
It's as if the world has turned into this mutant race, where all they do is take from each other. All they do is use other people to satisfy some want, some need, something more than they have. They only consider other people when it's of benefit to themselves.
Hell, I'm part of the mutant race in my own way. A majority of people I only consider when it suits me. That's so bad. I shouldn't be like that.
The thing is, you get treated like that for so long that you start doing it back.
There are some people in my life that are constantly wanting something from me. The only thing is, they don't want me at all - they barely care. All they want is the thing... even if that thing is time. Even if it's only an ear.
They ask you how you are, then barely wait for the answer before launching into their request.
I, for one, am probably very rude, in that I don't ask how people are very often (unless I've just been asked, then I feel it's obligatory). I often start a conversation with "Hey, do you mind if..." or some other question. Basically - what ever it is that I want to talk to them about.
I suppose the benefit of that is that when I ask how someone is, I really want to know the answer. Maybe it's more honest in that way? I don't know. Sometimes I feel bad about it, but then I think - if anyone had a major issue with it, they'd tell me, or at least stop being my friend.
I tend to loose friends more out of loosing touch than by offending them though.
I have a slight tendency to 'drop off the map' as I call it.
Basically, I just stop doing things that require me socialising with anyone but my very closest of friends (i.e. Libor and my flat mates)
That's also pretty bad.
There's so much that I need to stop doing.
Like rambling about myself in blogs.
Or going on about stupid things in public places (yes, this is a public place)
The main one I need to do - the one that will basically stop the others from happening - is that I need to stop feeling like I'll never be good enough.
Anyone who has ever felt that way will understand what I mean.
It's dibilitating.
And it hurts. A lot.
But enough about me, and my silly emotional rubbish. Enough with the ranting and raving and personal histories...
Hopefully you know how amazing you are.
Try never to forget that you really are great.
Blessed Be xx
Who ever came up with that phrase should eat those words.
Strike that, anyone who ever miss-used those words should be made to shove them up their arse.
Fucking is a much more accurate description of a majority of the sex that occurs these days.
Maybe once it was an expression of love... though I've had my doubts since obese young.
Sex isn't even about reproduction. It's about fulfilling a selfish, primal desire for satisfaction.
So why do we link it to love?
They say that it's the closest you can be to someone; being literally inside them, or having them inside you.
But that's only physical, and love is metaphysical...
So perhaps if we look at the reverse...
We are supposed to love the people that we have intercourse with so that we feel the urge to protect the bearer of our child... though how that explains women loving the men...?
I suppose love is built up on trust, and you have to trust someone before they touch or invade your most sensitive, intimate parts; literally letting them inside you...
So, if the roots of sex are truly in Love, where has that gone?
When did sex become a commodity?
And why?
Did the free market really open our ideals so far? Or did we already view the body as product - ready to be packaged and sold off to the highest bidder.
You may be thinking 'Lauren, what the hell are you going on about? Where is all this coming from?'
So, let me deviate a little and explain where this thought process begins.
Today (well, I suppose since it's early Wednesday morning I should say last night) we watched Requiem for a Dream.
It's odd, interesting, kinda sick... and feeds brilliantly into Naked Lunch - the text I'm currently studying for Film and Literature. It's about drugs, drug addiction, and the things people do for drugs.
There are four main story lines in the film. That of an abused girl turned drugie, her boyfriend and his best friend who are users and wannabe-dealers (one of them a heavy user, the other more controlled), and the mother of said boyfriend - who gets hooked on 'dieting pills'. Shan't give too much away in case you want to see the film and haven't as of yet (also, if you have seen the film, you don't need a break down of it anyway).
Basically, lots of bad stuff happens to the four of them (individually and together) and part of the film really got to me on a personal level.
Now, if you've read many of my older, rambling posts you'll know that I've been through some bad stuff when it comes to men, relationships, etcetera etcetera...
So, when this girl gets talked into sleeping with people for money/drugs (again, by the connotations and context) I instantly got that gut - OMG - feeling.
That feeling of totally understanding. Of feeling the indignity, the disgust, and the necessity of it all.
"Can you turn the lights off?" She asks
"You never wanted them off before." The naked man behind her replies, sprawled out on the bed, waiting for her to disrobe. She can't turn and look at him. Her eyes stay focused firmly some point far away, trying not to feel. Trying so hard not to think.
"I know, but... please?"
What should it matter to him anyway? It's not as if he wants to look. All he wants is to take. To use her body and satisfy his own lust. He doesn't need to see. He knows where everything is. Hasn't he seen enough?
"Okay" He acquiesces, dimming the lights as she begins to remove her top. She still can't look.
Because now she knows what love is. Now she's felt love.
How do you go back on that?
How do you go back on feeling whole, and worth something?
Needs must.
I guess that's the thing.
When her boyfriend calls the last time, and begs her to wait for him. To not go and be used just so she can get another fix. To not be nothing... it's the innocence in her voice when she asks
"Can you come today?"
Which need is greater? That of love, or that of drugs?
You never find out.
Not in the film at least.
There's these looks she has during the film, and they remind me of feelings - of times - of places. Times and places I'd rather had never happened, have never been...
I'm laid in bed next to him, feeling utterly void. It's like being dead inside.
I've given up. I may as well just give up. I may as well just give him what he wants.
I've given him my body, my soul has disappeared, my heart is broken in a million pieces... I may as well just give him the rights to this and have done.
The thought of being his girlfriend again makes some echo of me want to cry.
I text my best friend, telling him I'm giving up, giving in, letting him have me back again.
It's not as if I can feel anyway - it's not as if it matters.
He's asleep, or at least resting.
I can't lay next to him for some reason right now. I get up and sleep walk to the kitchen where I take the call from my friend, who berates some feeling back into me.
I cry in the kitchen for so long I get scared he'll come find me.
I want to hide... but he's in my bed... in my room... in my house.
If I could leave him here, I would... but I don't want to come back to him.
Don't want to go back to being nothing after feeling what love really is.
It's not as if all of my experiences have been bad though.
There's plenty I've convinced myself were wonderful.
"We didn't have sex, Li; we made Love..." - me trying to convince either Li (or myself) that I'm in love with Will
"But it feels so right. It doesn't even hurt..." - me trying to convince one of us that DJ could be the man I loved
"But he loves me..." - possibly my worst excuse for 'loving' someone
I look around, and all I see is this desperate need for satisfaction.
One night stands.
Fuck-buddies.
Friends with benefits.
Open relationships.
Hell, even some relationships are just an excuse for satisfying needs!
So here I am, loosing faith in the world while we sell our selves to the highest bidder (well, not even the highest sometimes).
That's why I enjoy spending my time with Libor and Mathieu.
Because, with them, there's none of that.
There's no sub clause, no cost, no conditions...
They never treat me like a commodity, or an unnecessary part.
They're just cuddly, and nice, and wonderful.
Why isn't everyone like that?
Why aren't all boys so considerate? So kind? So HUMAN??
Why aren't girls either??
It's as if the world has turned into this mutant race, where all they do is take from each other. All they do is use other people to satisfy some want, some need, something more than they have. They only consider other people when it's of benefit to themselves.
Hell, I'm part of the mutant race in my own way. A majority of people I only consider when it suits me. That's so bad. I shouldn't be like that.
The thing is, you get treated like that for so long that you start doing it back.
There are some people in my life that are constantly wanting something from me. The only thing is, they don't want me at all - they barely care. All they want is the thing... even if that thing is time. Even if it's only an ear.
They ask you how you are, then barely wait for the answer before launching into their request.
I, for one, am probably very rude, in that I don't ask how people are very often (unless I've just been asked, then I feel it's obligatory). I often start a conversation with "Hey, do you mind if..." or some other question. Basically - what ever it is that I want to talk to them about.
I suppose the benefit of that is that when I ask how someone is, I really want to know the answer. Maybe it's more honest in that way? I don't know. Sometimes I feel bad about it, but then I think - if anyone had a major issue with it, they'd tell me, or at least stop being my friend.
I tend to loose friends more out of loosing touch than by offending them though.
I have a slight tendency to 'drop off the map' as I call it.
Basically, I just stop doing things that require me socialising with anyone but my very closest of friends (i.e. Libor and my flat mates)
That's also pretty bad.
There's so much that I need to stop doing.
Like rambling about myself in blogs.
Or going on about stupid things in public places (yes, this is a public place)
The main one I need to do - the one that will basically stop the others from happening - is that I need to stop feeling like I'll never be good enough.
Anyone who has ever felt that way will understand what I mean.
It's dibilitating.
And it hurts. A lot.
But enough about me, and my silly emotional rubbish. Enough with the ranting and raving and personal histories...
Hopefully you know how amazing you are.
Try never to forget that you really are great.
Blessed Be xx
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