I want to write about sex. But I can’t. So I’m going to write about not writing about sex.
I don’t write about sex because it is a subject that has too many ties into too many things. It pulls people in ways that they don’t want to be pulled. It pulls them into the open and it makes them more real – and the last thing we need these days is more reality, right? There’s enough of that on the news every day!
I have a shoulder ache at the moment.
I was offered a shoulder massage last night, but I turned it down because I recognised that the problem is in my mind, not in my body.
My mind has hands that are pulling at the tendons and muscles in my shoulder and neck. It has a hard hold on them and is pulling them tight from the inside.
If someone were to take hold of those same muscles from the outside and try to pull them … well, maybe they would relax, or, perhaps they would snap. I’m afraid of breaking. If I broke – where would that leave me!
People have their hand firmly on their sex (yeah, I just realised how that sounds) and they are pulling the threads of it tight from the inside. If I were to take hold and pull from the outside …
So I don’t write about sex. Simples.