Bye, Tom!

Mar. 31st, 2017 09:48 pm
improperlyhuman: (Default)
So check this out: I tried to burn my Tom of Finland in the bathtub this evening.

That's the last piece of pR0n I have, I don't even look at it anymore, and it was partially damaged in the fire anyhow.

It didn't catch with the first match and that's when I saw that all my matches seem to have disappeared. I had a least one box that was nearly full. I found a match on top of the fridge and got the sleeve burning. It burned dirty and smelled like plastic. It didn't burn for very long before the smoke alarm went off despite my having two fans on and a window open, so I turned my new shower head on it. The book survived, and I'd blackened my bucket a little bit. Oh well. But I don't want to throw the book in the trash. I want to annihilate it.

Dry as the dunes over here. Arousal dysfunction. And only clean thoughts I allow myself now. And we all know what that means: lesbians. And thinking about lesbians is not only foreign, it scares me because it can lead to loneliness :( And I was already kind of sad because I had some music on.

But I didn't really have to worry because my mind kept wandering anyhow. So I gave up and decided to accustom myself to thinking about lesbians by watching a lesbian movie on my Netflix trial subscription.

First I tried this movie called Anatomy of A Love Scene. It's about two womyn who end up falling for each other after shooting...actually the love "scene" seemed really long and explicit, more like an adult film. It started off kind of funny and I wasn't sure whether it was supposed to be a comedy. They were lying in bed and the director or someone was giving them some explicit but really deadpan directions.

I tried to skip to the part after the love scene, but it seemed to take up the whole movie? And they were like just talking in between shoots or something. It looked boring and it was like just ultra soft porn, so I just stopped watching it.

Then I chose a movie called Heterosexual Jill. Damn, did I have a point? I've forgotten it. Well, it was funny enough and put me in a good mood, but it's weird watching movies about lesbians. Then I was ready to burn Tom.

Most of what I read about quitting porn is about guys. I'm like, what about me? I don't have erectile dysfunction. What about me, dammit?

My housing rep stopped by this morning. She waited ten minutes and verified that the heater doesn't work after I'd set the thing to the highest temperature. She's giving the landlord 30 days to do something about it. I'm afraid that he's going to try to evict me. That month-to-month lease come back to bite me in the ass.

You know, back when I lived in a garage and I first invited Thom over, she told me make sure the place was clean the next time she came over. I was like, "huh?" Because I had tidied up. I was like, who cares, I'd have sex with you in a landfill.

But I tried to set the mood for myself today, and suddenly I looked around my bedroom and I was like, this place is a mess, who would want to have sex in here? So I guess I get it now?

So here's my all natural equipment with which I'll be cleaning the bathroom tomorrow:

And here's one of those gently rolling hills:


Feb. 8th, 2017 11:19 pm
improperlyhuman: (Default)
Finally got myself away from wasting quite so much time on forums. I've been studying grammar to improve my editing skills, and, as of today, I'm learning Linux programming.

I have a dream of being a freelance programmer. Programming is so much more cut-and-dried than editing: either the program does what it's supposed to do or it doesn't. But I need to build up years of skill. I could do that in no time if I were my younger, less jaded, less rundown self.

Back to the good ole days, the reading and fiddling with computers late into the night. I've only just recently gotten my sleep/wake schedule back to early rising (where I want it to be), and now I'm poised to destroy that.

Got tired of Debian hanging at boot, so I re-installed it. The installation went haywire and installed to the wrong drive, over-writing my old Ubuntu. So I'm looking at other distros to use on the unused drive. I like CentOS, but it's not really a general-use OS (the repos are nearly empty), so I'll probably just use it as a Live USB and install Mint.

Having an OS as a live usb will allow me more secure access to Google Docs (if I ever need to work with Google Docs). Being a derivative of Red Hat, CentOS is also the perfect OS with which to familiarize myself for professional opportunities. I looked into Linux training and the courses cost thousands of dollars. What the hell. So I'll be learning from youtube videos.

I don't even know if there is much of a market for Linux development. But like everyone is focused on web development right now, aren't they? (Yuck). So I'll be in the minority of the minority and maybe can get my foot in the door that way. And maybe the endless tracking on the web will drive the market back to standalone software. Haha. I'm not actually laughing.

I'm in another repulsed-by-people phase, so I took down my dating shite again. Not that there was much to take down this time. I think this one will last a loooong time; forever, I hope. I have better, less random things to do with my life. In addition, some new understanding about my sordid psychosexual history squicked me out so much that my sex drive has departed. Hallelujah.

Actually, I'm not really repulsed by people. I feel that from time to time, but mostly I'm just weary, disinterested, and demoralized. I enjoy them more this way, from afar, when I'm not invested. My life is more peaceful this way. 

I don't seem to be losing any weight, so I was just considering lowering my calories down to about 1000, when I was suddenly weak today and ended up eating a ton: after my navy bean, kale, and millet soup, I went out to Taco Bell for tortilla chips and a bean burrito with rice, then had two Clif Bars. Haven't felt that full in a long time.

I thought I just felt bad because of low blood sugar, but I still felt bad after eating, so, I dunno. I'm lifting heavy again, and maybe I just need more food. Or just more protein. I'm benching more than I ever have: 30 pounds this week.

Actually, I probably just need to finally get my staggered caloric intake planned out instead of eating the same 1100 calories per day.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
A few years back, when I first started trying to treat my interest in porn by figuring out what I really wanted sexually, I came upon a concept for which I had no name. I knew that it was something that was present when I'd had sex with Thom, but not with anyone else. I put some phrases together, threw them into a search engine, and came up with this article:

That's it. Sexual selfishness. That's what I need. (I don't, however, find the term "ruthless" appropriate.)

Thom used to grab me and start grinding until she was satisfied. It was great, one of the things I liked best, very arousing. And it was selfish.

Neatly congruent with my being uncomfortable when people worry about me too much, people being too focused on me during sex is boring and a turn-off; pretty much all my excitement comes from others' excitement.

The problem with porn was that this sort of benign self-centeredness wasn't depicted in anything I ever saw. The closest thing was straight-up abuse. But the abuse wasn't what I really wanted, thank the goddess. I don't know how I'd live with myself otherwise.
improperlyhuman: (dark Mulder)
Was thinking about something that I may want to change about myself when I saw that the change might make me more vulnerable to loneliness or may be impossible to accomplish without a relationship. That made me very worried. I REALLY don't like relying on other people.

I was walking home about a week ago when I saw a womon walking about one block ahead of me across the street. She was dressed in an interesting way, and I was mildly curious and watched her walk for a bit. I could only see her from behind. Then I had a series of not-very-interesting thoughts that I can't remember (the last bit was something about people wanting to interact with others they find interesting), and suddenly the thought that I'm not ready for a relationship hit me. 

I didn't decide it, it just came to me, totally unbidden. It didn't seem related to the person walking or the thoughts I had while watching her, but I suppose it must have been in some way. It felt firm and settled and calm, not upset and intensely ambivalent, like I usually feel when I think about the subject. It was a peaceful thought-event: "You aren't ready for this." No condemnation or worry or anger or frustration or resentment or despair. Though I was surprised at how peaceful it was, I felt no need to dwell on it and continued my day in peace, and have felt mostly at peace since it happened.

This forms the background in relation to which I saw the possible implications of the change I'm considering. No, I don't want to type out what it is, but it is something I've mentioned before.

Where did that tranquility go? I'm know I'm feeling bad when I get that hollow pain in my chest. I had (and have) no idea what to do. I was suddenly moved to ask something about the change I wanted to make, but I've no one to ask. I can't afford online therapy. The one therapist in town never answered my calls.

I need to sleep on it for tonight.

Earlier today, I spilled my guts in an email to my VA social worker. I losing my ability to handle the logistics of apartment-searching. I found a couple of apartments online and scrambled my processor trying to plan out how to get to them, when in the application process to ask the social worker and/or the housing coordinator to help (never again will I pursue an apartment by myself; I'll just get denied).

So I told the social worker that I'm overwhelmed. She probably won't be able to do much and I'll have to pull myself together. But the money to visit these places is one thing that I can't just pull together.

Shit, I need to cut my fingernails.

Holy Shit

Jan. 9th, 2017 07:35 pm
improperlyhuman: (Default)
I spent like four hours cycling today and still didn't find the road I was looking for. So I turned around about sixteen miles outside of town and found that the wind was much worse. Sixteen miles in the wind. It was awful. My lower back was hurting, and the backs of my thighs felt fit to cramp up. I also peed in my underwear and shorts on the way out.

So that was roughly thirty miles. Forty is the most I've ever cycled in one day, and I didn't feel nearly as bad as I felt today. The goddamned wind is a killer.

A couple of weeks ago, I was reading reviews of a book about porn addiction or something when I came across an idea that had never occurred to me: gay and lesbian people turning to pornography because of a lack of any other outlet for their sexual interests.

This possibility had a strong effect on me because I know that lack of exposure to lesbian-specific material (relative to het-specific material) is one of the reasons why I've had such difficulty coming up with lesbian fantasies.

I've switched from using Vitamin E oil to the expensive, allegedly scar-fading oil I bought off of Amazon, and today I find that my facial scales are back. I suppose I'll alternate the two oils instead, but I'm tired of fighting this. I'd almost rather just have ugly skin.

Well, I'll have ugly skin for years no matter what I do. Even if I prevent this problem henceforth, the hyperpigmentation I already have will take years to fade. I wish that I had started trying to treat this years ago. I did, actually, but nothing I did worked and I gave up. I didn't think the problem would be covered by basic health insurance; I thought that I'd have to see a specialist, and I never even attempted that because I didn't have the money.

Oh well. My life could be worse.

On a brighter note, I received my new paratransit ID in the mail today, so I can now finally go to City Hall to purchase Taxi Scrip. This is a great program that allows me to use taxis for just a fifth of the normal price. I can't afford to use it regularly, but at least I have the option of paying ten or thirteen dollars instead of fifty or sixty-five if I get stranded outside of town again.

I've been having ketchup again lately, which I hadn't had since before the fire. It tastes strange, too sweet, something that doesn't go with potatoes despite the fact that I used to love it with potatoes.
improperlyhuman: (dark Mulder)
I've been very tired today and I don't know why. I think that I may have undereaten, but I just ate again and I don't feel much better. I can barely concentrate on typing this. I took a nap and it didn't do enough. Same thing yesterday, but it's worse today. But hey! I can nap again! That's something.

Today was supposed to be my day off from exercising, but I cycled for twenty or thirty minutes because I really really want to lose fat and I haven't been lifting as hardcore as before and therefore presumably don't need as much of a break. That couldn't have made me so tired, could it?

I cleaned the kitchen sink and counters. They are still dirty. Now what? They are stained and I don't know how to get rid of the stains.
This post has a TMI tag! And here's the TMI:

I think that I've finally gotten what I wanted, but it's not as good as I thought it would be. For years and years I've wanted to not feel any excitement over pr0n. I didn't know how to make that happen, but I've done it. People-pr0n has grossed me out for years now. I moved to animated pr0n and part of me thought that was good enough (no animals harmed in the making), but another part of me wanted to feel nothing over that as well because a lot of it is warped too.

Well, I looked at some today and it seems that I've reached that goal. But it also seems that I've lost the ability to achieve any satisfaction at all along with it. I didn't want to lose that; I was hoping to replace pr0n with some wholesome fantasies (as corny as that may sound). Well, I can't. I have wholesome fantasies (actually I've been having an excessive amount lately), but they aren't anywhere near exciting enough to produce sexual satisfaction. In fact, they're actually kind of frustrating because I can't live them out.

So the price I pay for my nice clean mind is sexual frustration. Ain't that something!

Maybe it's just today, maybe it's just because I don't feel well. I doubt that, however. I have been consciously aware of the change in my mind over the years, I actually tell myself "gross," "sick," and so forth. Even if it's not gone, it's definitely going. And I have been in such a good mood this week that I can barely stop thinking about having sex with another person. Those thoughts crowd out the other thoughts (and are driving me a bit crazy). And sometimes there's just pure physical tingling that isn't connected to any thoughts. Neither one of them fits in with animated pr0n.

is this even coherent? i should go to bed now.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
The revitalization of the libido: back from the dead, zombie-like, hungry yet lifeless and empty. That's what it is like to have sex without another person: empty. Mindless pursuit of fulfillment with no transcendent purpose, gory consumption of writhing, disgusting vittles. Then the human wakes up and regards with horror what she's just done. 

'Next time,' I tell myself, 'don't let the zombie out. Put it back in the grave. It's not so tough; it's slow and brainless, little more than a walking mouth.' But that eating does feel good. For a while. Until I'm me again. I just want something nourishing. To not have to eat trash. But I'll settle for Lilith going back to sleep.

I've had weird energy problems for the past few weeks. I can do stuff, but when I'm not doing stuff, I feel like I'm half falling asleep. I'm having lower back pain and I think it's from this lounge chair. I need to get on top of this furniture resource my social worker sent me. I'd forgotten about it due to being caught up in this medical crap and refusing to make another to-do list.

Also, it seems like I'm gaining weight back. My tummy feels bigger. I need a scale so that I can monitor myself more closely. I count calories, but I don't trust the software.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
It does not work.
improperlyhuman: screenshot of Apocalypse from X-Men: The Animated Series (apocalypse)
I also tried to re-direct sexual interest onto illustrated erotica.

Based on past experience with random prints I'd seen online, I bought a volume of Tom of Finland's work. I know nothing of the genre beyond this and hadn't wanted to risk my money on unfamiliar products. It was a collection on bikers. I hadn't wanted a themed collection, but it had been the cheapest available (fifteen bucks on Amazon).

It arrived with a reversible cover that enabled the owner to disguise it as a literary work. I didn't look at it too closely the first time I flipped through it; I think maybe I didn't even make it to all of the images. The second or third time, however, I could not help noticing that some of the images were violent and degrading. This was most definitely intended; the victims clearly had (distinctly disturbing) expressions of horror and surprise on their faces, well-portrayed by a talented artistic hand. I'm not sure what I'd been thinking when I'd ordered this: I think I must have expected some BDSM-like stuff, but I guess I also expected the portrayal of consent. I was also determined to change myself and distraught to the point of willingness to choose the lessor of two evils.

I was disappointed and repulsed. The very sort of content I was trying to escape! And in a book that was hailed as a work of art, a point of homosexual pride? Pride! What warped mind could see these representations of rapes and tie-ups as a positive reflection of gayness? A man's mind, that what kind.

So I finally completely learned my lesson to never trust any media fashioned by the hand of man. There is violence and hierarchy in everything they touch, especially their "art" and mythologies.
improperlyhuman: black and white icon with text "if you identify with gender, you identify with patriarchy." (gender)
In a blog post by Bev Jo (a radical feminist genius whom everyone should read) about lesbians, I think I read something about vaginal orgasms being fictional. That bothered me a little bit because I don't see the point in disbelieving the womyn who say that they've had them.

This made me remember that I've never had one, and not for lack of trying. I get to a point at which I feel like something somehow orgasmicky could happen, but the sensation becomes overwhelming and, more importantly, I feel like I'm about to pass out, so I get scared and stop. One day, maybe. But I have read about people passing out afterwards, so I'm still kind of scared.

My mood is much improved since I switched campsites. I feel great today. I've also solved the Freezing Feet Insomnia problem. It was apparently caused, rather than ameliorated, by using one sleeping bag within another, so I simply keep my inner sleeping bag around the whole of my body except my feet.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
This is personal, but not very explicit. Refer to the tags.

It has been many years now, I think, since I have posted anything about the shameful horror that is the use of violent porn of my twenties. There wasn't anything more to say about it because I had no idea what to do about it other than simply stopping. Long after I had stopped, however, I found, to my unspeakable dismay, that I had no recourse to a satisfying sexual fantasy life other than memories of, and fantasies based on, those same images.

I have what I refer to as "extroverted libido." This means that all of my sexual excitement is derived from what other people find exciting. Never in my life have I spontaneously had any sexual fantasies about what I actually like, whether regarding people or specific acts. I've tried to do so, but I find it boring and cannot maintain focus. It has always seemed foreign to me, but I have wondered if that isn't the result of having been exposed to porn so early that it nearly coincided with my first interest in things of a sexual nature.

Right before my eyes, I had graphic and explicit examples of what other people found titillating. And here is the problem: my extroverted libido latched onto it and wouldn't let go. I had no idea how to re-program myself onto something else, and there wasn't much of anything else available anyhow. For a time, I merely hoped to get into a relationship so that I could attach my libido onto the desires of my partner. It seemed like an unacceptable reason (not that it was the only reason), but it also seemed that I had no other hope for a normal sex life.

Because I could not achieve satisfaction without these disturbing fantasies, I worshipped Onan less and less often to avoid the guilt and sense of warpedness. For a time, I told myself that they were only thoughts, and therefore not grounds for unwanted abstinence and the amount of self-blame in which I engaged. I was never really satisfied with that belief, and eventually abandoned it. No amount or kind of rationalization could overcome the sense of sickness. By this time, I had eliminated overt violence, without really trying, it seemed. In addition, I tried (and succeeded) in sticking with some of the scenarios, but leaving out the more mildly abusive scenes. In the end, I was still dissatisfied with the content of these fantasies.

More recently, I tried one or two techniques that I'd read about on a forum for people with sexual disorders. One of them involved engaging in unwanted fantasies up until the point of orgasm, then switching to an acceptable mental image. I only did this a few times. I found that not having the accustomed sorts of fantasy near/at the point of orgasm delayed and prevented orgasm, and I ended up expending a lot of extra time and energy trying to push myself over the cliff with things I did not find arousing (this was the last point in time at which I attempted to find stimulation in something I would like in real life).

Early this year, or late last year, I noticed something: my sex drive seemed to have died. Unusual for me, I had not had a sexual thought (or act) in months. I was slightly awed, but mostly relieved because a lack of interest in sex meant no struggling to avoid thinking about things I didn't want to think about.

This is more or less where I'm still at. I'm glad that I've finally written all of this out because I can, at least, enjoy some sense of relief at having developed far beyond where I began, something I had not previously considered.
improperlyhuman: (dark Mulder)
Maybe this single-forever hermit plan is not going to work. I'm watching videos and I'm catching myself thinking, like, what nice long fingers this person has. And I'm gawking at the fiddling with the turntable buttons and I'm like, holy shit. I need to do something about this.

Nature always wins.
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