ADayInTheLife

Things that I like, things that inspire me, and things I aspire to be.
erospainter: Sex, as an expression of love, can be, and should be, ‘A Sacred Ritual’. Society may have reduced it to a stress management technique, a sport or entertainment. Some people will compare it to a basic need as simple as having a meal. I have heard quoted “Why buy a book when you can join a library” as a justification for screwing around. It’s easy to trivialize and devalue things, it’s easy to become cynical and detach ourselves from emotional issues, but in the end it becomes very cold and empty and within us all is the knowledge and longing that we do need to be loved. We need to love, we need to be loved, and we need to express love. The expression of love requires an intellectual, emotional and physical connection. This is where empathy comes into it; we need to know that deep within us and through all of our senses that we are being honoured. Love requires vulnerability. To truly give our innermost private self we need to feel safe, respected and to some degree, a little worshipped.

erospainter:

Sex, as an expression of love, can be, and should be, ‘A Sacred Ritual’. Society may have reduced it to a stress management technique, a sport or entertainment. Some people will compare it to a
basic need as simple as having a meal. I have heard quoted “Why buy a book when you can join a library” as a justification for screwing around. It’s easy to trivialize and devalue things, it’s easy to become cynical and detach ourselves from emotional issues, but in the end it becomes very cold and empty and within us all is the knowledge and longing that we do need to be loved. We need to love, we need to be loved, and we need to express love. The expression of love requires an intellectual, emotional and physical connection. This is where empathy comes into it; we need to know that deep within us and through all of our senses that we are being honoured. Love requires
vulnerability. To truly give our innermost private self we need to feel safe, respected and to some degree, a little worshipped.

(Source: canbesexy, via bigbadsofty)

True beans. rolledtrousers: It’s never the sex I miss the most.  The sex fills a void, and brings life into sharp relief. It creates those transcendental, world shattering moments where you literally stop thinking for the first time in your fucking life, and are finally able to think clearly, to actually know what clarity means. It’s the time of our lives, truly, and it can get as kinky as all hell. The sex is good. The sex is great.  But it’s never what I miss the most. It’s amazing, it really is, but it’s not what I feel most keenly when you’re gone, or when you’re not here yet. It’s not about me wanting to fill you with me, to be in you, and to enjoy that feeling more than anything I’ve hitherto experienced. It’s about all the other moments, the bits in between, the filler before the killer.  It’s about cuddling in front of the television, and watching something god awful but laughing along to it anyway. It’s about cooking food together, or even alone, so long as we do the eating across from one another at the table. It’s about the time that we get lost in Covent Garden looking for that one Sushi place that you absolutely must watch me try. It’s those moments, the in betweeners, that matter the most. They’re the ones I miss most keenly, the ones I pine for.  Because they’re the ones that form the relationship. That’s life, in the little things. Our sex is there too, but it’s too primal to properly give us the opportunity to breathe, and to breathe one another in. You fuck, and then you live. The sex is a pause on life, while the rest of the time you live it. 

True beans.

rolledtrousers:

It’s never the sex I miss the most. 

The sex fills a void, and brings life into sharp relief. It creates those transcendental, world shattering moments where you literally stop thinking for the first time in your fucking life, and are finally able to think clearly, to actually know what clarity means. It’s the time of our lives, truly, and it can get as kinky as all hell. The sex is good. The sex is great. 

But it’s never what I miss the most. It’s amazing, it really is, but it’s not what I feel most keenly when you’re gone, or when you’re not here yet. It’s not about me wanting to fill you with me, to be in you, and to enjoy that feeling more than anything I’ve hitherto experienced. It’s about all the other moments, the bits in between, the filler before the killer. 

It’s about cuddling in front of the television, and watching something god awful but laughing along to it anyway. It’s about cooking food together, or even alone, so long as we do the eating across from one another at the table. It’s about the time that we get lost in Covent Garden looking for that one Sushi place that you absolutely must watch me try. It’s those moments, the in betweeners, that matter the most. They’re the ones I miss most keenly, the ones I pine for. 

Because they’re the ones that form the relationship. That’s life, in the little things. Our sex is there too, but it’s too primal to properly give us the opportunity to breathe, and to breathe one another in. You fuck, and then you live. The sex is a pause on life, while the rest of the time you live it. 

(Source: backwordlights, via kitty-en-classe)