The whole point of the way, the journey, the path, whatever word one wants to apply to it is to experience, uncover, bring forward, know yourself.
Information in the head is not experience. Ridiculous arguments when all of one’s beliefs have been disproved like, it is another test of my faith, belief, whatever is the pinnacle of stupidity. Your faith is not being tested, how braindead stupid you are is being brought to your attention, yet you are even too stupid to be attentive. All you religious folk really are proving with every such comment that humans are far far FAR from being any type of intelligent lifeform.
A mate tells me about a brothel he was dragged along to in one of the nearby cities. Tells me a little about the setup, that the women are beautiful, it is cheap. His description sounded very amusing, however it was only amusing to the point I could see it through his story. The story however is only a story, information in the head, zero experience.
So, yesterday I unstoried myself and instead experienced it. Booked a taxi to the club, it is before 4pm in the afternoon, figured it will be nice and quiet. The taxi drives for 10 to 15 minutes and ends up at what looks like an old warehouse, there are several different clubs, only two open at this time. Reminds me of the desert clubs in the middle of nowhere on American TV with beautiful women dancing for a seedy audience, the dancing being a precursor to the romancing.
Walk inside, it is one big room, much like the Gentlemen’s Clubs back home but a much bigger space. Just the one pole in the middle on a platform where the ladies I imagine dance and prance hoping for the men to advance.
Around the room is a small bar at one end, and over 20 doors leading away from the main floor. It is 4pm, just, there are upwards of 50 men sitting around in the space. It is quite full, I had to join the table with another guy who was on his own. As the Gringo walked in, every eye turned, was definitely the odd-man out.
Looking around there is a chair in front of every door, they are empty when the door is closed, a lady sitting there when it is open. Clear how to know if somebody is available or not.
The women were attractive, very much so, however the scenario was not for me, and, still, it is clear just getting the wick wet is not the motivation, intimacy still reigns the supreme intention.
Had the lady sitting about five metres in front of me have stood up before she was approached by another guy maybe, just maybe, fucking ridiculously ripping body. She didn’t though, only when the man tapped her on the shoulder, asked if she was available and walked inside the little room together.
So, now I know what it is like in a South American brothel, absolutely know, it is not a story in my head, it is now experience. Experiencing myself for myself, knowing something rather than thinking I do based on other’s words and stories, this is not knowing or experiencing at all.
This stuff is really harmful, particularly in the discrimination space when it comes to same sex relationships and intimacy. The amount of men that are forced to believe experiencing another man is disgusting, not the natural law, against God’s will or is any other snot is pure ignorant violent coward homophobic rubbish.
All this forcing being done by men like Danyel, pathetic homophobes, who have not only never experienced this but not experienced anything other than what it means to be a word, the most pathetic word in the dictionary, man.
The fact of the matter is friends giving and receiving anal sex is fucking awesome, both, super duper awesome fun. You’d know this if you experienced yourself, put every stereotype and identity you are forcing yourself to live up to away and get to know you for you. You is awesome, experiencing you is awesome, getting to know the you under the bullshit words in your life extra extra pure awesome.