Jonas E. Heyser, diagram from a patent application for a chastity belt, 1911

So I’m single now, yeah? No sex source. Nowhere to put my semen that isn’t a tissue or my shorts. I take things into my own hands. I masturbate. Sometimes, afterwards, I think to myself something along the lines of “I wonder if I didn’t masturbate as much I would get all frustrated and high-tension and crazy and start looking around more fervently for someone to put some semen in?”

The thing is, I’m not necessarily into sex per se. I like physical intimacy. I enjoy touch. Certain parts of the human body are more sensitive and more pleasurable to touch than others. But I’m not aching to throw my dick into a hole. It just doesn’t really occur to me as something worth fighting for.

But I feel like the dynamics emergent from the comingling of sexual desires are part of the core of a sexual or romantic relationship. If I want to be intimate in ways X, Y, and Z, that requires that I desire to be intimate in this other very specific way. I need to want to put my penis into your hole and shoot semen in there.

And it’s better if I’m all pent-up and crazy, yeah? More energy, that way. My energetic fucks definitely come when it’s been longer since my last ejaculation event. Sometimes, when I was with my ex-wife, I would purposely not masturbate for a while so that the sex was better.

There are dangers!

If you don’t depressurize the genetic material storage containers every once in a while then you’re likely to blow a gasket and shoot up a movie theatre. I suppose that’s a pretty extreme reaction, but I’m also worried about less extreme, less harmful actions—

• Acting weirdly around women in professional situations.
• Losing sensitivity to the feelings and thoughts of others (just wanna fuck! don’t care what you have to say!)
• Sacrificing standards and values just to get that fuck.

I mean, I’m not an alpha male. I know this. I’m not 6’5″ with a massive dong. People don’t line up to fuck me. This isn’t a kvetch, it’s just the way things are. Some people have that innate, raw, human sexuality that others are drawn to magically. I do not. I live in sexual marginalia.

There was some movie about penguins or some shit where some of the penguins don’t get to mate and they just go fucking bonkers. Does that happen to humans? I’m almost positive it does. I think it happened to me, sometime between 7th and 12th grades. I masturbated constantly. I never got laid—no handjob, no blowjob, no fucking anything. I didn’t know how to approach the topic at all. So me and my other unlaid friends would play D&D and discuss philosophy and mostly hate on the world. We were pushing ourselves out into the margins because the core had, genetically, sexually, rejected us. It had rejected our bodies. No warm cushy center for us. Our sentiments drifted towards: “Fuck Christianity! Fuck the State! Fuck School! Fuck the Mainstream!” It had nothing for us, so we had nothing for it.

Part of me believes that the “good genetic material” was really the good in short supply, in 7th & 8th grade. The hot kids would all fuck and get fucked up on booze and fuck and fuck and fuck. They’d fuck out of their bodies. They weren’t in control. Their bodies were giving them all the same signals that my body was giving me, but they had an outlet and by God they used it. I would have, too, but my genetic material was assessed as low grade. The fucked up thing is that, even if I had found someone else on the margins to fuck, à la Ghost World/indie flicks/whatever, we’d really have just been masturbating mutually, yeah? God this is such a depraved, horrible view of sex that I’m not even sure if I believe in it, but part of me does. Part of me believes that the real human core of sexuality is genetic pressure—that anything else is some sort of spin-off or complicated misuse.

It’s taken a long time to get even a little closer to that warm human core. There’s a question—if I were to start getting well-laid by genetically viable men/women would I change? Would my values shift back into the mainstream? Would I enjoy Hollywood blockbusters again? Obviously it couldn’t happen overnight, but would it happen eventually? Would society start to push into my body-house and infiltrate my body-mind?

Perhaps I use masturbation as a shield against the world. I hold my dick and scream “You don’t get this, World! You don’t get my body! You can go fuck yourself!”

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