I feel like Ben Braddock. I'm awkward and nervous and worried about my future.
I saw this on a guys blog the other day. And by the other day, I mean ages ago and I've been thinking about it ever since. Wouldn't mind some other views about it, if you will.
I like women who havent lived with too many men.
I dont expect virginity but I simply prefer women
who havent been rubbed raw by experience.
There is a quality about women who choose
men sparingly;
it appears in their walk
in their eyes
in their laughter and in their
gentle hearts.
Women who have had too many men
seem to choose the next one
out of revenge rather than with
feeling.
(Bukowski)
When I read this part, I suddenly felt really gross. I felt embarrassed. I felt offended. I felt a bit bummed that by re-blogging this poem, the guy who re-blogged had essentially implied that he felt the same way. I felt like I needed to be someone else. Have you noticed the lack of boobs on this blog lately? Well, this poem is behind that. I was suddenly questioning myself, my sexuality and how I chose to express it, and myself. I was no longer proud of my banging fucking body, I just felt ashamed. All because of some stupid poem. I was mortified that there was a possibility that there were men in the world, that I was potentially into, that could perhaps tell by my walk, my eyes and my laughter just how many men I had shared myself with. (Which by the way, isn't THAT many, but whose to know how many these men think is "too many"?!)
Then I suddenly remembered I'm a fucking feminist. And Bukowski can go fuck himself.
My character should never be judged by how many men I have slept with, or how much experience I have had, or how I express myself sexually. My character should be judged by my ability to be genuine, warm and empathetic. My character should be judged by my loyalty and honesty and integrity. Those are the things that matter. There are people in the world that break hearts for fun, play mind games, string people along and torment the people they love so if anyone ever - EVER - made it clear to me that they weren't interested in me because I had slept with X amount of men, like some how THAT makes me a BAD person - you best believe that person would not be in my life for very much longer any how.
I saw this on a guys blog the other day. And by the other day, I mean ages ago and I've been thinking about it ever since. Wouldn't mind some other views about it, if you will.
I like women who havent lived with too many men.
I dont expect virginity but I simply prefer women
who havent been rubbed raw by experience.
There is a quality about women who choose
men sparingly;
it appears in their walk
in their eyes
in their laughter and in their
gentle hearts.
Women who have had too many men
seem to choose the next one
out of revenge rather than with
feeling.
(Bukowski)
When I read this part, I suddenly felt really gross. I felt embarrassed. I felt offended. I felt a bit bummed that by re-blogging this poem, the guy who re-blogged had essentially implied that he felt the same way. I felt like I needed to be someone else. Have you noticed the lack of boobs on this blog lately? Well, this poem is behind that. I was suddenly questioning myself, my sexuality and how I chose to express it, and myself. I was no longer proud of my banging fucking body, I just felt ashamed. All because of some stupid poem. I was mortified that there was a possibility that there were men in the world, that I was potentially into, that could perhaps tell by my walk, my eyes and my laughter just how many men I had shared myself with. (Which by the way, isn't THAT many, but whose to know how many these men think is "too many"?!)
Then I suddenly remembered I'm a fucking feminist. And Bukowski can go fuck himself.
My character should never be judged by how many men I have slept with, or how much experience I have had, or how I express myself sexually. My character should be judged by my ability to be genuine, warm and empathetic. My character should be judged by my loyalty and honesty and integrity. Those are the things that matter. There are people in the world that break hearts for fun, play mind games, string people along and torment the people they love so if anyone ever - EVER - made it clear to me that they weren't interested in me because I had slept with X amount of men, like some how THAT makes me a BAD person - you best believe that person would not be in my life for very much longer any how.
beezle:
I love everything about this! You are amazing.
mrboxes:
Buk although a brilliant poet; was a renouned misogynist. The above Poem for Swingers, says more about a certain type of men than women, IMO.