Imagination, meaning something I had on full speed at 12 because I was alone being the nerd/obnoxious kid in school and also because I did not attend the neighborhood school which meant my chances of actually getting to know people who lived near me were zero. Then again I had several friends. Bernardette was my next door neighbor and two years older than me, with whom I played almost everyday in my house and in hers; in my playground and in her little wooden house in which we played "mamá y papá". She was significant because she was the first to turn me down: she said "I can't play tomorrow, there's a hurricane coming", and Hugo came and destroyed my window by the way. Then one day or another she was gone, to New York or something with new on it. The next friend still lives on the other street, but we have not talked in years since our growing up clashed in many ways. Then my imagination ran wild with a box my mom gave me, with the encyclopedia at home with it's Zeus and Venus and shit...the books adults gave me, oh what an awesome time it was...(not really...), but seriously it was fun, until high school though, but that's just another thing.
I was a sexual kid (which I now find hard to believe). And I have been masturating since before kindergarten if my memory serves me well: those long trips from Vega Baja to Cataño in my mom's eighty something Toyota were bliss, cause I could touch the back seat of the passenger's seat and after a while, found myself unable to do it any longer and suddenly became tired. But, it was only in my mid teens (funny, cause I'm not out of them yet) that I realized what I have been doing was that shameful thing, ha! Because I was caught doing that several times in different places and felt by my mother's look that it was wrong...nevertheless thank the gods I didn't stop.
Before this sounds like a pedo-playboy-letter kind of thing, I might add that this is about imagination. I was fantasizing all the time in my late childhood about castles, power rangers, me having superpowers and that-which-I-didn't-know-but-now-I-can-tell-it-was-sex. But then came the porn, I mean come on, I became hooked: hooked in wanting more of it, but sadly I didn't have more so I resorted to my imagination to those oh so private moments with myself. Blah Blah Blah, years passed, Internet came, you know, saw this, done that, felt relieved and fulfilled, then it stopped. Porn doesn't surprise me anymore, it's like this long term relationship gone bad, and it has became awkward to even being around it. So, it was like a month ago since I last masturbated (and why the hell do we all care Dave?) and I've been like an old guy, you know, didn't even know if it worked anymore. I tried my imagination, and it didn't work; then I realized that porn has destroyed my sexual imagination (*shakes fist at air* damn you porn!)...So like this old term relationship with it, I got laid with it one more time, then said this won't work anymore I will see other ways and moved along. I hope we can still be friends you know...but I will try to work on me in this time you know, cause I let my imagination slipped away sometime along the way. I need some me time. I have to restructure my whole sexual imagination once again.
Hi, my name is Dave, and this was a hell of a freakish entry. Last night I masturbated again for the first time in a month and got through it succesfully.
Now, I have to work on my crying, I can't cry honestly...well lately I haven't been able to...
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