Stereotypes and sincerity

the crude meat cleaver-y nature of my sexuality in bloom is both exhilarating and profoundly out of touch with my mental models of gender and sexuality constructs. oh, and reality.

so much of it is out of touch with female experience and sexuality.

calling myself a sissy? crossdresser? hypersexualizing myself? channeling expression through the tunnel of extreme sluttiness… the list goes on.

just because i get off to things doesn’t mean that i’m unenlightened enough to not know how ridiculous they can be.

because jesus, they can be ridiculous.

the things i say and think and do when horny are indicative of someone with perhaps a poor ability to wholly articulate and conceptualize the complexity of the subjects involved.

but that’s not me. i have a thorough and rigorously inquisitive understanding.

i’ve written a mental script to allow for the duality, but i’m going to endeavor to be more conscious of the gap between each interface with the world and try to see why it’s so.

perhaps i can meld them together and heal some of the divide.

or maybe it’s just totally okay and normal to believe that reality is one way and then engage your sexuality through the lens of the reality of your society that you reject.

i hate saying crossdresser. like, dude, i’m not crossing any internal divide. sure, to you it looks like i’m walking from one side of a chasm to another on what seems to be an invisible bridge, but that’s just because you’re missing that piece of the landscape in your perception. for me, i’m just walking on an unbroken road between what i consider arbitrary ‘cliffs’ beyond which crossing is met by society with derision and ostracization.

believe me, when i exploit stereotypes for my sexual arousal, a part of my brain is always putting an asterisk next to that action that reads

*this isn’t reflective how i actually view things!