Subtle, I am not. July 16, 2009
Posted by sciencegast in Uncategorized.Tags: connections, sensation, frustration, sex, subtlety, pheremones, proximity, energy, carnal, desire
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Let me tell you now: I am not a very subtle person.
Even if I wanted to be, my face shows every detail of emotion I may be trying to hide, and my personal energy is WIDE open (I have no psychic boundaries, nor do I have any clue how to create them; forgive me for departing from the realm of science, but psychic energy is I believe merely a manifestation of the electrical/chemical forces/communication between systems within and between bodies. I do not believe in “seeing the future” or things like that.)–good and bad in a way. I suppose this explains why I tend to be very approachable and personable, and why complete strangers too often pick me out of a crowd to ask for help or directions, or to tell their life’s story… or to say creepy things to. This can be somewhat of a detriment to my own health, however, because being so open causes me to be susceptible to others’ emotions, and my caring nature leads me to care and worry intensely upon sensing discontent. Not only that, but it is often the case that anything I am thinking or feeling is shown on my face, posture, and overall energetic vibe no matter how well I believe I may be hiding it. I am, quite literally, an open book.
Because of this, I will often do things purposely to counteract and contradict my feelings. I have never had good luck with boys, probably because in my fear of social interactivity I can come off as standoff-ish. Well, this I used to be. After my breakdown last summer I emerged a more outgoing, less afraid, less ashamed person. So open I am.
Going back to the night of my drunken laying on said sober friend, I had the “horny” vibe screaming from every fiber of my body. I wanted to (sloppily) move a hand towards his crotch, and he apparently caught that. He wanted to do me as well, but being the nice guy knowing I was drunk, he refrained. However, it was at this moment that the proximity had arisen.
Proximity. A word we both use to refer to the magnetism we feel when we’re within touching distance of one another. Standing several feet apart, we are in the so-called “friend zone”, but any closer and something interesting happens; the hairs on our arms and necks stand on end as if attracted by a staticked balloon, and a jolt of what one can only describe as electricity courses from the affected skin to the brain and back. It’s enough to cause us to stop what we’re doing and take a glance in each other’s direction. A very curious phenomena that neither of us is able to explain in any way other than simply stating, “It’s there,” and that the force is like a magnet tugging at our skin, saying, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, HEY! This person’s right next to you; DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!”
So, while nothing happened that first night, neither of us can deny that we felt the effects of Proximity. Was it the mixing of pheremones in a potent witch’s brew? The fact that both of us had been sex-less for so long? A combination? Or was it simply two people that happened to be in the right place at the right time? Either way, something was mutually felt that night, and the next day the feelings were stronger.
It was like a raging thunderstorm that neither of us wanted to admit existed. On the subway we looked in opposite directions so as not to let the other know what we were thinking. I could literally feel my aura burning and popping like a bright and violent bonfire, the static raising my armhairs into goosebumps and quickening my heart, causing me to take short, swift breaths and clench my jaw in defiance.
It took absolutely everything within me to ignore the Proximity that day. Out in public, it was easier; I could at least try to distract myself by focusing on something or someone else. Once alone, however… distraction became an impossibility. The Proximity was there, it was magnetic, and there was absolutely no denying its presence. It became further and further enhanced as the awkward silences lengthened, until my body started to tremble and the pheremones were being expelled in buckets.
He later told me I could not have been more obvious if I’d had a megaphone to his ear.
I did what any other girl would have done in that situation: I stared at the wall and stated, quite matter-of-factly, that I needed to go home and take a cold shower. I fidgeted. Clenched jaw. Bit fingernails. I looked at him; he was grinning. It was an interesting facial expression, actually. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, but even as he knew this I could see the angel and devil in his mind wrestling for victory–should he or should he not? Was it really such a good idea to enter into a sexual relationship with a casual friend? He looked up at the ceiling and back at me again. Up, back. Several times this was repeated as his angel and devil wrestled. His eyes went glassy like a puppy-dog’s as his face contorted with the torment of decision-making. I stared at the wall. Silence. I looked again at the face.
The devil won.
In an instant he swooped in to kiss me. I hesitated–it was now my angel’s turn to fight… but the devil had her K.O.’d in about five seconds. I kissed him once again, paused, and said, “Okay, let’s go upstairs.”
We bolted. I have never experienced such urgency in the act of sex. As soon as the door was shut, the clothes were off, foreplay be damned, intercourse had begun. I felt alive for the first time in a long time. Adventurous. Ferocious, like a tigress. It was entirely carnal, and that was exactly what both of us needed. I had never felt such rigorous, carnal, heat-of-the-moment passion before, and it was positively exhilarating.
The act itself didn’t last long, but neither of us was in it for the marathon. We wanted instant gratification, instant satisfaction, and that was exactly what we received. Clothes went back on and he went out to have a cigarette. I followed, and as I did so I could feel my entire body beaming with the satisfaction of finally, finally releasing itself of a year’s worth of tension and frustration.
I went home that night feeling refreshed and relaxed, grinning from ear to ear. We planned to meet again the next day…
Interlude — About Emotions July 6, 2009
Posted by sciencegast in Science.Tags: connections, emotion, human, Science, sensation
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Everything is connected.
The human body is an amazingly complex system facilitated by electrical and chemical communication between and within the smaller systems that combine to create the moving, feeling, thinking human being. Even within cells, the “smallest building block” of the human body (they’re not, by the way–we can go deeper by explaining that cells are made up of molecules, which are made up of individual atoms, made up of electrons, neutrons, protons, et cetera–but I do not feel the need to take it this deep, so we’ll stop at the cell), there is communication within and between. The slighest changes in the electrical field of a cell membrane can facilitate a massive shift in the cell’s function.
And emotions? Feelings of sadness, fear, anger, betrayal… and, of course, happiness and contentment, love–a direct result of the body’s communication system. Everything has a purpose. Why do we feel physical pain? Because if we didn’t, there would be no mechanism for slowing down and forcing one’s self to rest, allowing the body time to heal. The area swells to make way for the rush of blood, complete with leukocytes (white blood cells) to ward off infection and oxygen to encourage cell repair. The swelling also helps prevent the animal (us) from using that body part, actions that could potentially cause further injury. The feeling of pain alerts us to the fact that something is wrong. Now, if these physical sensations are all mechanically, deliberately perpetuated, would it not be plausible that there be an equally deliberate mechanism for emotions as well? For as much as we like to believe that, as humans, we are intellectually calculating beings, much of what we do is driven and decided upon by our emotions. So much so, in fact, that humans incapable of feeling emotion of any kind have difficulty in making even such simple decisions as choosing to write with a blue or black pen.
Consider again the example relating to pain; the same can be seen to hold true for emotional pain as well. When do we feel emotional pain? It usually corresponds to a socially negative situation, yeah? As often a deterrent to acting outside the established norm, the anticipation thereof a preventative measure, emotional pain is the brain’s way of saying, “You’re an idiot. Don’t do that again.” And happy feelings? “This is good. Here’s a reward!” Highly simplified, of course, but… psh. The question we must ask now is, “But why? Why do we need these rewards and deterrents?” Excellent question, Billy–you get an A for the day. (forgive me, it’s been a long day, and my brain is fading slowly in and out)
Humans are incredibly social animals. We need others of our kind. A person in solitary confinement will slowly go mad without any human interaction. There’s a reason hermits are crazy! But, getting back to the serious tone with which I began, I don’t believe this simple fact that humans need other humans is at all debatable. The question again would be, “Why?” There may be one or several reasons for this. The group is stronger than the individual, more efficient at gathering food, protecting itself, raising offspring, et cetera, et cetera. In any case, however this sociability initially arose, the fact remains that those hominids with the natural desire to hang around and adhere to the social rules of other hominids were more likely to pass on their genes, and in this way this need for a connection with one another was perpetuated.
Several biological factors play into this. I shall go into them on a later date. But, for now, on with the story, as the plot has thickened yet further since I’ve begun writing this blog…
Beginnings — part 2 June 30, 2009
Posted by sciencegast in Storyline.Tags: beginnings, love, oxytocin, Science, vasopressin
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He met me at the airport.
We embraced, said the traditional helloo, awesome to meet you, et cetera, and then he poked me. “You… you are real,” he said. Why yes. Yes, I am. He was not at all what I’d expected; his big, bad Internet persona was just that–a persona. I found myself not at all physically attracted to him (a stark contrast to the online fraternization only months prior), but still I enjoyed his company and knew I was going to have an amazing summer.
He took me to my new house, where we met the ‘mates and I settled in. It was all in all a very awkward experience. There was drama floating over the heads of the girls I’d be staying with, and we all had our doubts and worries. One girl in particular was able to set me at ease. I was her sugarmama; the deal had been that I pay her rent while she was away, earning my stay while allowing her to keep her room. Upon meeting her I felt an instant attraction. She was one of those people you could follow around and just listen to for hours. Her personality was magnetic, and when she spoke I felt an urgency to listen carefully for fear of missing out on something profound. I relished our conversations, and as my mind expanded, my soul relaxed. The stage was unfolding.
One night, within the first week of my stay, the ‘mates and I had a small gathering–a party, if you will. We all ended up completely trashed (and for the record, I am in my early twenties, so it was quite legal). The intoxicated me is… not very calculating? Ha. Not at all. I have the tendency to drunk dial/text people when I’ve got liquor in me. Aaand, I texted Scott (the boy): “Cjome over asflkjalgj! im kinda not sober, come ov’erlkas and lets have sex!” or… something of the sort. He explained he had to work in the morning. I pestered, “whats more important, work or sex?” He called, I giggled… and then he popped in with, “I’m on my way over, just fyi.” I stopped giggling. “I was joking! I’m not really going to have sex with you!” He said he wasn’t expecting sex, only that he needed to get out of the house…
So he came by. I was still, how you say, pretty shitfaced. I waddled down the street towards him, giggled, babbled like an intoxicated person… We watched movies the rest of the night. Intoxication, while making me silly and uncoordinated, also has the tendency to heighten my libido, and heightened libido mixed with lowered inhibition is always a sure sign of trouble. But that night I remained a good girl, and we slept on separate couches.
Next day, 100% sober, I followed him to his house. This is where things began to get really interesting…
And, finally, I can talk about SCIENCE!
Beginnings June 30, 2009
Posted by sciencegast in Storyline.Tags: beginnings, love, oxytocin, Science, vasopressin
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It seems silly to me now, but I feel I’ve got to write, to get these feelings out into the open where they can be analyzed… so I can feel the detachment I so desperately need, the feeling of being in control. This is a game I am not at all comfortable playing, yet I feel compelled…
We met on the Internet. Kind of a skeezy place on the Internet, come to think of it, but I was laid up in bed with a broken limb and a mending heart, and I was feeling bold. I messaged him, a simple “hi” and a pat on the back, well wishes, and that was that. We conversed occasionally, but it was always exceedingly casual. I was, at the time, experimenting with phone sex and webcam stuff with a friend across the country–I needed an outlet for the intoxicating, infuriating, soul-crushing tsunami of frustration that strummed my every fiber after a long summer of an inability to walk (broken limb) and a terminated source of income (due to said broken limb) combined with the crushing rejection from a boy I thought I loved, who I thought loved me. I was hurt, and as a result, I acted out, I strove to change the person I’d been into something better, faster, stronger–an ice queen of steel. Which I am. Ha! Also, having lost my virginity I found it suitable to better express myself sexually; thus the “fraternization” with various online personas (to be fair, I had known this phone sex boy for upwards of seven years, so he was not a random stranger).
One night we’d had a particularly ferocious fraternization. Involving a werewolf. Raping me. Yes, yes, think what you will, but it was hot, and his voice was excruciatingly stimulating. It took awhile, but I came, and to this day I still mark that as the greatest orgasm I have ever had. Ever. I felt the warmth, the swell of comfort, the happy, giddy high from an influx of oxytocin (this an important hormone–I shall explain in a later entry). We said goodnight, and I fell asleep, smiling… and in the morning, I still felt the effects, powerful as ever. I noticed a note on the profile of my friend’s page (the first person mentioned, not werewolf boy) with a phone number and the text, “Send me weird text messages! I love them!” I grinned to myself. Oh, hell yes. I most certainly will.
So I sent: “I’m still flying from an orgasm last night involving a werewolf and me, dictated by a nerd on the phone…”
Reply: “I think I just came.”
And it went on. Several texts later I dropped the hint that his mysterious texter was, in fact, me. Checked online, and there was a message waiting, with one sentence: “Fyi… I love you.” Ha!
The doors were opened. I sent him pictures, he reciprocated, and it was fun! It was always very casual, the sending of pictures, the discussing of our sex lives, fantasies, what have you. Somewhere along the lines, however, we began discussing deeper issues. Long emails were sent back and forth regarding psychology, self-identity, life histories… his advice was always sound, and he was more than willing to read paragraphs of my rantings and confusion. The tables turned, and he found within me a loyal friend. The naughty pictures ceased, and we assumed a platonic relationship. I was boggled to find how quickly the friendship had formed–I had only known him a couple months, and already I considered him to be in my top ten closest friends. Conversely, I was in his “inner circle” as well.
Now, as an undergrad of science, I needed an internship pertaining to my major. I was sick of my state. As much as I loved it, I needed to get out, to do something different. I craved adventure. My goal was to find an internship elsewhere, somewhere I would have the chance to meet and hang with people I’d known from the Internet. I don’t know why I decided upon this, but I deliberately looked for places in my friend’s state, hoping to meet up with him, thinking he’d be a great person to hang out with on my days off. I found an opportunity, applied, and was accepted with flying colors. I was in. The thing I still don’t understand, however, is the fact that I had set in my mind that I was going there, even if the internship opportunity failed. I would go and work. Anything, anything to be in the area with this person I had never met and wasn’t even in that strong of a friendship with. Perhaps the issue had to do with wanting to be out of my comfort zone, escaping my home for awhile, just once trying something new. Anyway, internship happened, and I found some people off of Craigslist to room with. I said, “To hell with it, adventure-ho!” and popped out.
Plane landed at 5:13 pm. And here begins the real story.
