Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Second-Firsts Don't Exist

Five months and then it will be time to depart this doomed youth and the mindlessness that is achieved from living in it and all I seem to want is to salvage this plummeting society of its rapidly dying breed of purity baring beings. Every month the list gets smaller as the pages thin further and nothing grows faster like the terrifying fear of your options thinning so rapidly that you begin to lose track of your friend's extra-curricular.

Who said that there was ever a problem with waiting for that small fragment of the male population to demonstrate a hint of promise or a granule of authenticity so that it can at least be said that your virginity was once something to be valued and not something to be lost. I am not saying that sex is something that I feel the need to have, but I, and anyone else truly aspiring not to be like the rest drowning in the sea of throbbing genitalia, are surely feeling the pressure.

Right now, I could tell you that there are three (or two) cliques who remain on my side of the court, people with brains that had sex over a long-term or a promising relationship, people with brains which have abandoned the male race or those people that are too drug-fucked to know what they have or haven't done; I just want to be secure in knowing that when I feel emotionally available enough to be prepared to actually seal the deal, there will still be someone out there that at least thought some sense. The teenagers of this and the previous century seem to treat and have treated such a non-volatile event as something that needs to be lost at it's first opportune moment and if that were indeed the case in my mind, it would be very hypocritical of me to be writing this wouldn't it?

I guess the question I am really trying to ask here is,
is your first time something that you can truly look back on,
or something that you want back?

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