I am at my worst when left alone to think. My brain can be so damaging to me sometimes... doubt, paranoia, questioning everything. It's really counterproductive to my overall goal of living happily.
Funny, that is the second time that I used "counterproductive" today. I wonder what that means.
See what I mean? It doesn't have to have a meaning!!!
I gazed the longest at dominicvine's photographs. I mean, I enjoyed the others, and they certainly had meaning that I could understand. But it was these photographs that were real to me. That represented the overall goal of the show.
It got me thinking about beauty. And what that is to me.
I remember always looking up to my father. When I was really young, I aspired to look like him. His ease at growing a beard and mustache. His body covered in hair. I always wondered when I would become as hirsute.
As I grew older, I became aware of his faults. I saw what life had done to him... how relationships in his life that should have made him stronger did just the opposite. I saw him as overweight. Unhealthy.
My fantasies for men changed. Maybe it was because of my new imagery of my Dad. Maybe it was because I never really had a childhood. That I was forced to be an adult at such a young age. I began to fantasize about boys. Men, but boys.
"I want my men to look sixteen and hairless" I've been known to say. I like 'em looking young, like a teenager.
Maybe the way I want to be.
I started looking through dominicvine's group of photos on Flckr. And I came across an image that struck me. Hard. It was my father. I mean, it wasn't actually my father. But... it was. He had the same grin. The same furrowed brow. The facial structure... the hair... the lips. The signs of age, and size, and hair... and...
And all these men commented on how beautiful the man was. Is. It was a photo that on any other day, I would have clicked right past. But I read those comments, and I looked at the photo again. And they were right, he was beautiful. Is beautiful.
Full circle perhaps. I don't know. My dick doesn't get hard at the sight of such beauty. Like it did when I was 11. But... I saw beauty again. Perhaps, I allowed myself to see it.
They should have a group for people who date sex workers. Yes, that was a non sequitur.