Here’s the thing about my sexual fantasy land.
It’s all bullshit.
This is the truth:
Everyone is beautiful.
Everyone is sexy, or has the potential to be, even within the body they are in right now, even if they don’t check off a single box on the list of superficial societally-deemed attributes.
Having a specific fantasy without space for that fantasy to morph and evolve, is dangerous.
Because everything I’ve ever thought of is only a minuscule fraction of everything that could potentially be.
To expect that my tiny pool of perception is large enough to encompass the vast potentiality of everything out there that could be good and wholesome and enjoyable and fulfilling for me, would be absurd.
The universe shows me something new every day, when I have my eyes open to see.
I learn more about my wants, my needs, and what’s frivolous, unneeded.
My childish fascination with Rosalina is fun.
And there’s nothing wrong with being childish. Children have a lot of essentials down pat, that we often eschew in the name of adulting. Please, be childish.
But not everyone can be the slender, pale, smooth-skinned Rosalina. Not everyone can fit into her dress. Not everyone has her features.
If I am fixated on a set fantasy (which I guess you could call my final fantasy? hehe), then I can easily miss out on the infinite possibilities that reality offers in each and every moment.
I have a preference for polyamory. What if there is a person who is in such perfect alignment with my goals, values, principles, and sensibilities that it would be absurd not to be partners, yet monogamy is their preference?
Flexibility here is important, but so is staying true to myself.
I’m always open to having the hinges blown off of my preconceptions. Or, I always try to be ready, anyway.
Ten years ago, I saw the world one way.
Today, I see the world differently.
In ten more years, how will I see the world?
This process tells me that as long as I live, there is always more to see, experience, and discover.
Which means, to act like I know everything there is to know at any given point, is preposterous.
So, in the grand scheme of things, I’m just a Jon Snow. I know nothing.
Teach me, universe. Show me. Fill me in. Paint the canvas. Keep me open. Keep me permeable, but solid. So, semi-permeable, with an intelligent and advanced filtering process.
When I go on, and share those fantasies like I shared in the previous chapter, I don’t want to make anyone feel intimidated or less-than.
I swear, you’re all so perfect. Works of art. Sculpted in the likeness of legends. And you are legends, yet to be told.
Don’t let society decide if you’re sexiness or not.
Society is bad at making decisions.
Society does not even have a brain.
Society is a reflection of us.
So if you don’t like society, be something different than what society is.
That will inspire others to be different, and society will change.
You, yes, you. You are a sexy legend.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
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