Random thoughts: Love or lust
I have searched for love all my life and often my search has led me astray. I have also followed lust in all the wrong directions. For years alcohol and drugs have mired both of these emotions, but not anymore.
At best, I’m a six and that’s because of my personality not my looks. If my appearance were the only aspect that counted. I’d probably score less than a five.
I am guilty of lusting after women and confusing that with love. Sadly, I feel I have been with my soulmate already and didn’t realize it at the time. She was the perfect woman, for me anyway.
Lust for me doesn’t mean what it use to. It means a strong desire to have or accomplish something; such as, a tasty hamburger, the desire to hug my grandkids or winning the lottery.
I don’t search for love anymore, but I see it everywhere; in a man and a woman, a parent and a child and of course the simple friends.
Do I really love the Redskins or is that a word I easily pick out of my blue collar imagination? Love and lust are strong emotions and both have their place in our vocabulary and life.
10 thoughts on “Random thoughts: Love or lust”
Sometimes, I have fallen prey to the lustfull urges with the woman I loved and it didn’t seem so sensual. When I was younger the sexsual act had a lot of control over my actions. Now the same act has more control over my mind and not my body. But that has lessened too.
Lust supposedly is a dark sin for those who have sold out to religion’s grip on our mind. D.H. Lawrence surely lusted after many a delicious dish and led us away from the guilt we are taught at Sunday School at least at the Baptist Church for example. I saw Billy Graham preach against lust when fifteen in Japan as did the captain of my football team, a Texan, who would become Oliver North’s commanding officer in Nicaragua and took me through the book of John one long sleepover night at his home Bible training me against that horrible and lustful sin that was sure to prevent my entrance to heaven. Fortunately I discovered Lawrence in literature along with Joyce, Hemingway, and many others who head a healthy sexual urge that was not like the Trumpster demanding his handful of pussy because he was rich and powerful, but because they adored the physical, the marvelous body of their adorable love interests they took to the woods with a bottle of wine, laid in the grass with, on a blanket, and shared their lustful loving moments that shined in novels like the writing of their memories of blazing moments that carried them away from the boring occasional monotony of existence and took the reader to places only their imagination could exult in the lustful life they adored when they found that special moment with a loved one, and explored all of it with gusto as we all should when a spontaneous opportunity arrives. Otherwise we would regret having lost that moment in time when we blended with another in mutual ecstasy and understood the body electric with no thought of dominance or abuse but sharing a moment of bliss. Daniel C. Lavery
I know, I was thinking the same thing when I wrote it.
REALLY? A whole year? No way.
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I wouldn’t if I were you. You wanted to see your buddy and it will probably a year before I come back down.