I am absolutely convinced that the best way to make a choice on who you’d want to sleep with is to go by your gut instinct. Every single time I have ever regretted sleeping with someone, the instinct had been sending out signals of ill tidings. This has happened a grand total of one time. We’re still acquaintances, but there is no way in hell I’m ever sleeping with him again. I’ve thought about it a few times during periods of mild-malfunctionality, but have decided against it. He’s just not worth my time.
I think there’s no real point in trying to define what exactly is sexual promiscuity or feeling assed about the number of people you’ve slept with. I never really quite liked how Ethan (previously the Boy(friend)) absolutely refused to tell me the number of people he’s slept with; he probably lied when I asked if it was under 20. And it occurred to me that these are the kinda things some people would rather their partners not know, and something they didn’t wish to know either. So what difference does it make to the other person, if they never do find out.
According to Mr. Big, it’s something people lie about all the time to the opposite sex, and something they expect to be lied to about. So there’s absolutely no need to imagine you might feel like a filthy piece of used ass when you finally find someone you’re completely in love with. Because if that were the case, then you’d better go love someone else. The only reason why you would feel used is from the reason why you should feel so that has become a bad, damning habit in your head. Not because the person you love thinks terribly of your genitals.
How lame is that anyway. I think he has a filthy dick because he’s slept with 60 women. He can wash it, can’t he. Go for tests, safe sex; there’s no reason why anyone should be afraid of sleeping with someone who’s responsible for and about his own life.
Indeed, just be uninhibited, go with your gut instinct, understand responsibility, and have fun. It’s silly to define what exactly is sexual promiscuity unless you fervently believe in the black and white doctrine of no sex before marriage, or sex with one single individual. Anything else is a very subjective case; every relationship and every situation is different. With something like murder, now that’s pretty clear cut. Someone died, that is a definite. But sex? You had sex with the guy at the club, it was mutual and immeasurably gratifying, two people getting their end of the bargain and no one got hurt.
The problem I always had with the term ‘sexual immorality’ had always been biblical. Most religious text advise you on a number of things that seem pretty rational for your individual well-being. But the thing is, sex is more often good for you then bad. I usually find myself in an incredibly improved mood for a number of days after I have sex; and in bad flavour when I do not, usually ending up in me thinking about it more then is healthy. This is my theology, you are free to believe anything you wish; But suppose sexual immorality simply means sleeping with people you know you should not have. And most of the time, you do know when your about to sleep with someone you shouldn’t. Even when you’re incredibly drunk. Tell me if I’m wrong, but I doubt it.
Sex is God given, just as food is. And there are some things that are not very good for you to eat, like strangled animals and some sex that you shouldn’t be having. Like sex with your boss’s husband (unless you remembered to exchange yours for hers. Preferably of similar or superior quality).
That’s my rational.
The sting of death is sin, and the power of the sin is law.
Try to behave, darlings, and you are bound to feed your lusts. And end up doing all the wrong things anyway, while feeling very unhappy about it.
Happy Sabbath.
xoxox
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