hippy shite
My sexuality is such a mystery to me. Maybe because it’s always changing, which is perhaps why I’m so drawn to polyamory. The wildness of it scares me, and I don’t know why. But there are certain aspects of myself which I have run from in the past, and this feels the same. I’ve never been in any sexual partnership that made me feel safe to express myself fully, and definitely not encouraged in that regard. Part of the reason I feel depressed is because my wilderness is dormant and has been for so long.
Much of that wilderness comes to life in nature—sex is definitely not the only outlet—but the sex aspect being unexpressed and untraversed definitely makes me feel uncertain and unfulfilled. Maybe a more accurate word would be “un-itiated,” since I have only peered into the psychedelic aspect of sex and erotica. I’ve felt intense pleasure but never consistently or for long. Even my sexual function is changing, and I don’t know why. Until recently I have never experienced multiple orgasms, just one overpowering one, and now it’s really the only kind of orgasm I experience, almost like I’m squeezing it out of a tube.
“No wonder why I feel so bored
Each day’s like the one before
I think I’ll run away
And climb higher than I’ve climbed before
Life should show me so much more
I think I’ll run away
And you can come (And we’ll be calm)
We’ll run away (Together, run)
Things will be so much better
Live as we die
High, high on some green hill we’ll be
Laughing at reality
Glad we ran away ”
I walked around the Avenues today and visualized what I want my living situation to be a few months from now. I want to live in a charming apartment building in the Avenues, on a higher floor, preferably with a window out of which I can see the downward slope of the street, and the city panorama beyond. I want to leave my apartment for an hour in the morning and hour in the evening, walk briskly, look at the beautiful architecture and hidden shops, the tree-lined streets, the cemetery, and then come home and sit next to my window and write.
As I walked to the streetcar this evening at the close of my walk, I realized how often I go out to bars (and inevitably spend money) just so that I can be in an either stimulating or ambient environment. I’d go to those settings far less if I could leave my home and walk safely and enjoyably for as long as I want, and then return to a beautiful space, protected by my energy and with a view that brings me inspiration and warmth.
This evening as I passed a multiplex, I looked behind me and on the lawn a handsome guy in a dark brown fur coat was sitting in a lawn chair on the front lawn and waved to me. There’s a palpable whimsy and love of beauty that is present in the Avenues, and I have wanted to live there since I moved to Salt Lake City. A major part of the charm and attachment I had to The Triumvirate was the loveliness of being in their home and then the home we shared, the bohemian aesthetics, the antique architecture.
Another element was certainly the shared intellectualism, love of film and music, of the 60s, a shared bohemian and psychedelic academic aesthetic, the sense that we were building a utopia of free love and freedom from the constricting ideals of our parents (and grandparents). In fact that entire relationship operated within the groovy aesthetic and optimistic ideals of a 60s hippie. And even though I would never return to that particular unit to realize those ideals, they are definitely ideals I still want for myself. I want to be in a shared unit with someone (or a few someones) who sustain each other with our collective skills, who are stable and function in the modern world while also intentionally creating space and time alone and with each other to explore the worlds within ourselves, our psyches, our eros, our connection to nature and to ancestors, and the potentials of our artistic and intellectual interests.
