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ONE PERSON'S PASSION IS ANOTHER'S PERVERSION... THE EXTREMES OF INTIMATE EXPERIENCE ARE WITHOUT LIMITS
ONE PERSON'S FICTION IS ANOTHER PERSON'S EXPERIENCE SO BEWARE FOR ANYTHING GOES HERE - YES, ANYTHING
THAT WHICH SHOCKS YOU MOST IS BORN OF YOUR OWN FEAR - BUT CAN YOU FACE YOUR FEAR?
OR DO YOU JUST HIDE BEHIND POPULAR JUDGMENT LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE?

Perversions, The Diary


wait, the format may be better seen here


Ah, the inspirations are so young online, everywhere we look we find another teenager in love, another hopeful heart and lustful body longing for sharing, for love, for a first time. There will be those who will claim to have never used the internet to look for a near perfectly airbrushed body. There will be those who claim to be appauled to learn that so many bodies can be found naked online. Bodies firm with youth and virginity, with nipples pure and unflushed. Skin that has not been stretched and bruised repeatedly by pinching, sucking, biting, or by stretching expansion from the rushes of blood or pregnancy or aging. Bodies apparently not yet effected by life. Those people would not like this place. Go away. Your denial is not welcome here. If it upsets you, tell those who applaud Tipper Gore and those who would try to confine the human mind to only thoughts that they approve of. Run away from feelings that scare you into feeling repulsed because they exist. Live in your fantasy and not in others. Don't worry, be happy, there are no phallic symbols hidden in Disney cartoons and you were emmaculately conceived. Your parents never did it. Life is beautiful and untouched by dirty human hands. The rest of us will go on now. Sarcasm is harmless, but your fears are dangerous. If you can come without false guilt or fear, you can so easily find the innocence in the unused flesh. If you come with harmless intent, you can enjoy yourself with eyes that still have the wonder of what if. The excitement of curiosity. The sweet seduction of feeling inner passions turned on for the first time. While that comes from being ignorant of the full measure of passion, it is so sweet to remember and imagine happening again. Dare to remember. Still, many who overcome the wall of religious guilt, shame, and sin still buy into lost innocence. For those who feel jaded and spoiled and destroyed by shattered dreams or worse, emotional and physical abuses, sex may be a dichotomy of emotions, a mixture of anger and hunger and jealousy and rebellion and self-pity. Passion is all of this. The excrutiating ecstasy, the unbearable losses, the trust of breath and blood and sweat and tears and all other bodily fluids. The blissful ignorance we call sexual innocence. This is what this diary shall be about. But that is not all. For perversions are not all based on fairy tale passions. Fear is as much a source of perverion as any emotion. Nightmares as much as dreams. As experience and knowledge come bringing awareness of risk and pain and betrayal and cruelty, survival instincts may shut down senses and stimulation can become specialized, compartmentalized, perhaps so as to better be emphasized and intensified. And controlled? Perhaps we can call it the development of fetishes. We have bodies that can find orgasmic stimulation in the breeze or in a trickle of water on the nipple or clitoris or penis. Do you ever wonder what makes such sensitivity so feared or worse, so desensitize to the point where cold steel pierces the once so sensitive, still so full of nerve endings skin that orgasm is only sometimes prodded by pulling and twisting on the steel? When does pain become necessary for passion? The answer may be for another diary, for this is a place to explore what is, not why it is or how it came to be. At least at first. And then there are the observations of the perversions of abuse and neglect and dominance and submission that all too often are the defining expression of the word perverse. That too shall be explored here. So beware, for the childhood delight of innocent touches are not all we find here. Other physical touches shall be explored with as little judgment as possible for this is not a place of judgement, rather, it is a place to explore, express, and reflect upon the passions and perversions the human species loosely calls love.



and come again . . . - . . . more to come

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