Perceptions

I'm currently twenty years old. Almost two months away from my next "legal" birthday in January. Even in the last five years, my perceptions of things and views on what I previously thought were wrong or scandalous have changed. My head spins at the mere thought of what I thought was good and evil ten or more years ago. Yeah, I'm still young, too young to have changed much, but perhaps by the time I've finished this, you'll think differently about that. Maybe even challenge some beliefs you've held close.

In freshman year of high school, all druggies were bad. Pot smokers, bad. Alcoholics, bad. People addicted to painkillers, bad. I still think people who do meth and crack aren't on the correct path of life, but I have more sympathy for them now than I did before. I've had pot brownies (not by accident) and it was a horrible experience. Had half an entire batch with some very strong stuff. Slept two days and could barely get out of bed and think clearly on the third. It wasn't like I had bad trips or anything, it's just such a waste of time to have slept for so long when there was so much else I could have done. And some who know me very well might go "well, how is sleeping for two days and not doing anything any different from what you do when you're depressed? You still don't shower, barely eat, etc. etc." Well, it is different. When I'm depressed, I at least think. There were no thoughts when I was that high. Or they were ridiculous thoughts. Like how the entire universe is just a movie and we have scripts, even if we don't know it. And then I thought I was breaking my script and was going to be punished by the divine directors for figuring out their plot. And then I thought that it was part of my script to question the celestial authority. And then I went to bed. And slept. And slept. And got up to pee once. And slept. It's just such a waste. I can run myself in circles with better thoughts than that. I don't fault you folks who use it to be creative or do something you think is worth while. Hell, I envy you if you can make it work for you. But it's not my thing.

Alcohol. Used to be HORRIBLE. It was gross and people were bad for indulging in it. Then I found drinks I liked. And I can't count the days I wished I could drown my problems in a tall glass of Moscato. Probably not so good, but now I sympathize instead of patronize.

I've had morphine from after a surgery. I can see how people can get addicted to something that makes you feel like warm fur is on the inside of your flesh and your head is wrapped in cotton candy gauze. I'd be addicted to it myself, if I thought I could be normal when on it. But I know I can't.

Blow jobs. Oh, christ. I know a few who won't believe this, but it's as true as me sitting here. I thought blow jobs were absolutely disgusting. I couldn't understand how something that boys peed out of could be put in anyone's mouth and thought of as a good thing. Oral on girls was gross too. Because it's all nasty and slimy down there. Who'd want to put their mouths on anything that piss came from?? But now I can't get enough of blow jobs. Fucking, gawd, I dream of that shit. I read romance novels that immortalize it and all I can think of is how I agree and want nothing more than to do it forever. And receiving it ain't all that bad anymore either, heh.

Remember just a few months ago, when I said vaginas are terrible? Not so much anymore. I find myself thinking about how I'd like a girlfriend and show her all the tricks I can do with my tongue. I want to give a girl all the pleasures I've been shown and more. And this leads me to polyamory. I'm typically monogamous, but I find the definition of it stretching to encompass more than just two people. Master and I have had few and far between talks about adding a third. And now I find myself thinking about it more and more. Wanting it more and more. I don't know how I'll deal with the extra emotional baggage, but I want to find out. I want to make another person happy and have that person make me happy.

Water chestnuts. Oh lordie. A year ago they were so horrible. The texture, the sound, the everything. I can't eat them plain or have too many now, but I've learned to tolerate and appreciate what they add to a dish.

And so many other things. They range from the seriousness of depression to the simpleness of doughnuts. I've flexed and changed and transformed into someone/something I never thought I could be before. I can't tell if it's bad or good. I'll let you be the judge. Or not. I could give no fucks.