Sex is an obsession.
I think about sex more often than anything else; more often than food, liquor, drugs. Every woman catches my eye as a potential partner. In my mind I undress them, to touch, kiss, enter, explore. What I don't do is act upon it. I often sublimate it with my art. I masturbate nearly every day. If there were more time I would do it more often. Because this is a compulsive, often unreasonable idea or emotion, it is defined as an obsession. Iit is the way I have always been wired.
Now this is the tricky part: Upon reflection, I begin to wonder WHY sex has been so important to me? I look into myself and find it a release from what I felt was my nature: a bashful, shy, totally lacking self-esteem little boy. With sex I gained power. I was somebody - a greater accomplishment with my male peers than any painting I could have created. That power is delicious. It is possible that that power is what I was/am obsessed with, and in my mind, sex and power reflect each other, or perhaps become each other; and I am a potent male as is the natural order of things - or so I can allow myself to believe. Sex has always been an issue in this male, and thus the term, obsession.
I don't know if any of this makes sense. This is something that does need to be elaborated upon, and one of these days I will be able to examine this aspect of my self with clarity.
| ||
 | | |
| |