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Nov. 27th, 2004

So okay. No dreams, no miraculous answers.

Okay, I'm weak. I guess I can admit that. I'm not so bugged about going to the strip club last night-- I know it's not really the place to go for therapy. I went there with the desire to be touched, but when I got there the desire became desperate, almost a need. I felt like a junkie.
It was foolish. Or it would have been, had it been more of a conscious thing. As it was, it seems more like I was masking my true feelings from myself.

And that is the key.

I didn't go because I wanted entertainment. I went because I was desperate for intimate contact with a woman. And that was entirely the wrong reason to go.

You can't buy intimacy.

Come on, I know this. I am aware with every fiber of my being, yet that's what it turned into-- me being desperate for intimacy and affection. How bloody pitiful is that?

I didn't want to hurt you, but you're pretty when you cry.

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
azul_ros
Nov. 27th, 2004 03:18 pm (UTC)
Yikes!
Sounds like a true masochistic act!!!
magicmarmot
Nov. 27th, 2004 04:02 pm (UTC)
Re: Yikes!
Hmm... a thought worthy of exploration.

I am much more Hedon than Masoch, at least consciously. Pleasure is my thing. But do I harbor some unconscious desire to cause myself pain?

The only thing I can see is that it might be a way of sabotaging myself from taking on the dating challenge, probably to avoid the concept of emotional risk. In a way, substituting one kind of pain for another.

Possible.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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