Death of Innocence

So lately I have been thinking a lot more about things than I normally do. Usually I just let the world slide on by, barely give it a passing notice, but lately I actually take the time to stop and think. In retrospect, I'm pretty sure this is a stupid fucking mistake, and I should abandon it quickly. As I'm sure you have all noticed there have been less drunken debauchery stories lately, and more things I actually think about. I also have a couple of half written posts that are waiting for me to finish them sitting in the editing page for this site which aren't stories. I know it's not what people really expect from me, or, more precisely, want from me, but I like to share my thoughts, so deal. I can't be drunk all the time, I'm broke. This will be one of those mixed posts; part drunken revelry, part politics, part rant, part insightful commentary on things most people never want to think about, if they even noticed.

Since there is only one true dictionary in this day and age, I decided to use it to look up a definition of innocence for this post. Number 2 is the most correct I believe: virginal, without blemish, without blame, not guilty, pure, clean, untainted, naive. I think that about covers it. I'd love to go into what I really think about the "virginal" part of that, but I think most everyone has heard my statements about that. The fact of the matter is that nowhere in that definition can you find one word that manages to describe any of my friends, my co-workers, my bar people, or anyone I know. Well, maybe naive, but only comparatively. I think this should depress me, but in all honesty it doesn't? Why? Because anyone who was the definition innocence would most likely piss me off if they weren't a child. Better yet, I think almost everyone in our society has the same feeling. We all hate people who are innocent because they are useless. They don't have the understanding to survive in what we think of as "our world". They don't get it, so they get hurt, and in getting hurt that innocence shatters like broken glass, and all those shards of glass shoot off cutting everyone around them, causing us pain. We can see it coming. We know what's going to happen to them because it happened to us. People fear for their children because they don't want to see innocence broken; they don't want to see the pain, or feel their own pain as they remember all the times when their innocence broke.

And the breaking of it isn't a one time thing. Innocence encompasses everything, every facet of life. The first time someone sticks their hand in a fire and gets burned, they lose a piece. The first time someone they know dies, a piece dies. Their first job costs them a piece. The first time someone yells at them, a piece breaks off. A kiss? Another piece. The first time they make love, another piece gone. The first time they fuck, one more lost. Their first love and subsequent broken heart; a shattering. You spend your whole life losing piece after piece of what began as a perfect bubble protecting you from reality. But it doesn't protect you, it blinds you to all of this wonderful, horrible existence. The act of being born is like popping open the lid of Pandora's box.

And here's the kicker about it: innocence attracts. We all want what we can't have, and innocence lost can NEVER be regained. Some of us want to protect it, some want to possess it, some want to destroy it. For a lot of us the illusion of innocence is enough. Supposedly the ultimate woman for most men looks like a lady, acts like a virgin, fucks like a whore. Or, for example, the ever desired schoolgirls, nurses, teachers, librarians, even nuns. Or for the truly sick and fucked in the head, the choir boy.

The other day I had a choice to make between women. I could take the "tramp" in her fishnets, hooker boots, black skirt, over exposed cleavage, and up in my crotch attitude. I could take the "wholesome" girl with her jeans, sneakers, T-shirt, and good conversation. The popular, bitchy chick; the nerdy girl; the rocker; the dyke; the bull dyke; the rave girl; whatever girl you can imagine, I could find that night, in that bar. Or I could take the shy little virgin girl, in the bar for the first time, too nervous to speak up, to scared to relax, to naive to notice she was the lone sheep in a room full of wolves. So many choices, so many options. With enough experience all you need do is study them for a moment and you'll know what they are in bed. It's in the eyes, it's in the way they move, it's in the way they Dance. Are they a dirty little whore in bed? Did they watch so much porn that it has become indelibly burned into their brain as the way sex is supposed to be? Are they so repressed that they freeze in bed? Do they let loose their mind, their inhibitions and free the beast inside, animalistic in their need for sensation and feeling? Will they let loose a frenzy that burns out at the end of the first orgasm? Is she one that will start cold, waiting for the spark to start and set the fire raging out of control in a firestorm of lust and passion? Which one will satisfy you tonight? Who will fulfil that aching need in your loins this night? Who can truly quench that blazing Need that drives you, again and again?

Even virgins will show it, if you know what to look for, the right questions to ask. And sometimes, just sometimes, what you really need is the cool waters of a woman to whom the entire act of sex needs to be the physical act of love instead. A woman, a girl, an innocent, who you have to touch so tenderly, gently. Someone whose innocence you are taking, but one that you want to break as softly as possible. Show her the joy, the passion, the thrill to be had, there on the other side. Awaken the Need in her slowly. Revel in the sheer pleasure of the act; take the time to do it right. And when it's done, and you see that glow of satisfaction flowing from her entire body, know that you did well, and you will reap the benefits in the days and weeks to come. Teach her to be every kind of lover you could ever want. And then let her loose on the world. My world.

What choice did I make that night? Most men would love to have a virgin, but they are scared of them. Me? I pop virgins like bubble wrap.