3 thoughts on “Liminalist 9.5: A Cultural Conspiracy

  1. This is not a troll, albeit still a fuckit comment for edutainment purposes.

    Earliest memory was a dream, alien abduction nightmares and night time paralysis, plenty (to do with free-d flow of sexual energy), but this was a regular dream.

    Dad was building an extension on the house, others around minding their business, I was suckling at his “area”, level with my mouth.

    Lol. Alien abduction, classic defense mechanism against case of real abuse, right? No. Like to laugh is to make something OK. Well, whatever.

    Like the Egyptian depictions, a little too high on the body to be the phallus but whatever, it was it. I saw nothing and knew nothing of an erection.

    [It was – is] The most intensely sexual time of my life – of one’s life?

    Mum was painting the ceiling, pants bum crack showing, I hid under a desk and pulled my pants down and sat in bliss for as long I could.

    I’d sit in school with my uncut dick poking out feeling the wonderful pulsations through my body – when does it ever do that anymore?

    When did I lose it? Early, early on I became increasingly embarrassed, shy, and like highschool years trying to suppress an erection, but an internal emotional, erection, the face going bright red to the point of tears. Body’s in the saaand… that’s where, I want to go…

    Best dream: Swimming at peace with a naked woman in a ocean of blue (increasingly murky). I have never seen myself in dreams but I am myself.

    Fast forward twenty something years, never been in a relationship, I still have never so much as touched anyone else’ skin tenderly, I remember a girl’s full breast brushing my elbow once.

    Could not have… jelly, I hardened over the years.

    One recent, relaxed, fish conversation with my older sister went like this:

    If I was ever to be with a prostitute, I would only want to hold and caress her naked [long time].
    What shocked me, was her harsh expression and reply, like, that’s not on, no way in hell, “you’re paying her for a Service” and the lesson was anything less than sucking your dick is not ok! Tender, naked embrace, NOT OK.

    I’d certainly pay her (the prostitute) for more time, I said.
    Silence… pensive even? No fucking clue.

    Not many years ago now, super repressed, I unwittingly recreate the Egyptian creation act, the guilt and reactive penance (not even possible anymore, no “moral” potency left) whisks me away to the underground, the red/blue world, where a plane has crashed and an investigation is underway, a vine had become entangled with itself (what I had done) and a sandbox universe was born out of some quantum event. During the exam/test I was my lost youth again, at one, again, and the freeing up flow of sexual power was much, so much more, too much but it was my punishment to bear… Here comes Santa Claus and all the ladies who want to sit on his lap, [I was (it seemed)] God’s gift to women, and it was the Sister Act [all woman were your sister, nothing more and who are everything to you at the same time] …I will follow Him / Follow Him where ever he may go. etc etc etc

    keep me away… away from his…. heart/love……
    (ah, I still feels goosebumps)

    Bliss was emanating outside from my chest (mostly in the morning in bed on my back…) something like a magnetic field as seen by iron filings. By day it was an unbearable tingling heat deep inside my chest and in the chest of… my sister, which she still complains of till this day…

    Anyway, I forsaked it all, I guess to gain an understanding of it better. Today, years later, I fucked up something in my head trying to enlarge my penis, it worked, immediate results, the shaft is permanently disfigured, yaaay, and I almost lost my eye sight, could still happen, the black curtain, and this was an onset of spider syncs and doppelganger madness… so I’m dying, whatever.

    I’ve learned ways to both recooperate vitality and likewise lose my health, fast! No angry (masturbation, no “taking care of business”), no orgasm brought on by intent to orgasm, even though when there is flow, full body orgasm is non-stop, flow is most important What Ever that means [doing/touching/not touching], tender acceptance, assign your own meaning, confidently, walk like an Egyptian, love yourself before other(wise jealously which man Is of the female which has lead to our rape-everything, decreasing-in-novelty culture). I’ve just about recovered, if trans’ in mind and spirit, am functional in social settings if I’ve built myself up to feel nnocent and beautifool, like, is that chemistry or what is it? I can be at death’s door and yeah, rub myself or gaze a little (and lift my fixation to my whole body) and the brain takes another path away from judgement (which all goes back to jealousy which I never in a million years thought I was/had).

    Still can’t play in the sandpit together (which is… a star).

    Sin-cerly,
    Rasputin.

  2. Life. Get lost with your logic, Spock.

    Verbal exploration, am not interested.

    Sorry I didn’t mention Russel Brand…

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