Sex And Creativity
Libido is a curious thing.
Long have I cursed my fate. My life is in a period of disarray. I don’t have a job, I don’t attend any schools, and I do almost nothing except for write and laze around, blasting music or playing video games. I know that it would be a good and well thought-out idea to wait until my novel is complete and safely published and I have a stable occupation or I’m in a course at some institution to seek out the affections of the opposite gender and later the foray into the sexual stage; but alas, my mind is not of a similar opinion.
I constantly feel plagued by desire. Some days it’s fairly laid back, but others it is very difficult to get sex off my mind.
I’m not ready for a relationship and sex! My health isn’t so great, I spend a good portion of my time in a detached dreamland, I’m in the middle of a bout with social anxiety that makes it difficult to go out or attempt to lead an otherwise normal life, and I have no income or methods of transportation to speak of.
And yet, there it is, waiting at the edge of my psyche, dominating my thoughts.
That urge, a need for something I cannot currently have.
I felt like my sex drive was a anchor, holding me below the waves of insanity as I struggled for breath, to gain my bearings for even a minute in this world. It was just there all the time. It didn’t care how inconvenient it was, or how lonely I felt. It just kept up the assault.
But then something amazing happened. I was talking to a friend about it (alright, alright, you caught me. I wasn’t talking; I was complaining), telling her how I just wanted it all to go away, how it was such a burden and I was sick of feeling such intense desire; and she told me something that really turned around how I thought about all this.
It’s not a curse. It’s not a bad thing. The contrary, in fact.
Life is more full and rich when you are alight with passionate impulses. It’s a lens that brightens the colors, that makes things seem more solid and vibrant. It fuels my inspiration.
Don’t get me wrong, there are thorns in the stem of this rose just like any other. Feeling the euphoric sensation of one’s passions doesn’t erase the bitter truth that such desire is still unfulfilled.
But it does provide a spark. A slight creative impulse, pouring my urge for intimacy into an energy source for my some of my best writing. A tender flame, carefully fanned into a blazing inferno.
I feel quite a bit better about the whole affair.
Though I’d still like a girlfriend sometime.
Brendon “lonely” Regier