Daily Trivia

Salvete.

Today’s trivium is the profound but irrelevant one of – (& anyone who actually knows me can probably guess what I’m going to talk about) – the

Inexhaustible beauty of women.

And its absurdity.

In life, we work our relative positions out (happily, sadly, ill, or fatally) in strife and ignorance, the sex phenomenon driving people to “find their level” in society. Thus, men & women may marry & find it a disaster, or they may marry & accept it as natural & acceptable & worthy. Whether in continence or in flagrante delicto, they work out a place in the world vis-a-vis the desirable ones among all the others.

The question arises: If I have a partner, why do I still desire others? Why should I hurt my loved one and damage our familiar basis? It seems to me the simplest answer is that each one of us has desire not for one single person to begin with, but for the whole genus of the opposite gender – in my case, for all women – for the Goddess herself, as it were.

But this is absurd, unworkable, impossible of satisfaction, even counter-intuitive in that one certainly doesn’t desire the base dregs along with the sublime folk! How can this be? The Goddess herself is not even present as an individual! Why would this be so? The answer of course is – it just is. Nature has instilled this in the beast, in infinite particular variation, and each individual has some of this inheritance. In other words, it is something that cannot be avoided, but must out at some level, and so it is something that must be managed. We have had no hand in the formation of our selves and souls – only in their maintenance.

Individually, for me, I find that the desire for attractive women is not only inexhaustible (for being generally unrealizable) but is neither a single thing: it is a network of feelings that are nervous (literally), nervous (figuratively), foolish & self-indulgent, all of which combine & present themselves to me as “desire”. It is at that point, in between the presentation and the assent thereto, that something can (perhaps) be done. For if I know that my desire is (a) natural but (b) destructive, and if I catch it before I assent to it, I may be able to set it aside, postpone it, un-knot it by reflection – ride herd on it, you might say – before the cascade in its enthusiastic profusion begins.

I hunger for the company of women – plain women, attractive women, beautiful women, gorgeous women, smart women, simple women, sweet women, tart women; yet I am also glad to have found a certain GOOD woman, one who has lasted the years and the trials & has stuck with me through it all. I do not even care if the intellectuals & elitists assert that she has done so out of mere laziness – what matters is that she has done so, while the others have remained distant, or drifting, or ghostly, & at any event mostly uninterested. Some women I have moved toward and, owing to my own emotions, run from, and hurt them. Others have sampled me and found me wanting. Many, many more were loved by me in fantasy & ignorantly, from afar. Only one made it her business to arrive and stay.

In old days I walked about with my head bent down and my eyes on the ground, fruitlessly trying to avoid not only this excessive desire but also the burden it lay upon me; exiled by my own distorted awareness and emotions, I could not pursue the course others took. Years later, I held my head up and stared ahead, gawking freely at these exciting creatures who were ignorant of their effect on me. Yet of late, I believe I shall lower my eyes more often & so avoid, to whatever degree I can, the pointless stimulus of the excessive and overwhelming female presence.

Valete.

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