This guy stopped watching porn — and he wants you to know why. Gender activist Ran Gavrieli felt that most of the images he saw in porn encouraged negative, even violent, attitudes toward women, despite a recent wave of feminist porn. So he pulled the plug, and found that his personal sex life and private fantasies became much more fulfilling.
In his talk at TEDxJaffa, he advocates for physically and emotionally-safe sex, as well as erotica that shows a wider range of fulfilling sexual experiences — including the intimacy of human connection, laughter, and touch. Watch his talk here.
I think this should be something to be mindful of. I know how some tumblr members feel about their porn and I am in no way attempting to police anyone on what they believe they should be watching/ reacting to. All I ask is to be open minded and truly think about the point that Ran Gavrieli is making about the system of porn from a psychological and social perspective and what sort of impact it has, that’s all.
I will always refer to Davy Jones, captain of the Flying Dutchman (particularly the one from Pirates of the Caribbean) as Cthulhuman. So many H.P Lovecraft creatures floating around in my head tonight. Maybe if I offer up a sacrifice they’ll devour my nightmares; though they may be someone else’s monster under the bed I’ve always thought of them as such perfect mascots of creativity. Cthulhulhulhulhuuuuu….
And when you’re a survivor and you feel the sharp prick of everything fucked up and dysfunctional, you don’t get to love. You don’t get to yearn for a warm body without that knife in the back of your mind. You don’t get to dream about a full house or the prideful smile created through the friction of building something solid and safe. And you sure as fuck don’t get friends. There’s only you and the next thing cutting at your throat, there’s only the road to travel and the desire to fill the void that keeps eating away at you night after night while the past betrayals haunt and hang heavy around your neck. What salvation? Cause as a survivor that’s all you do, exhausted, irritated and stubborn you fight persistently saying no to the final door for whatever reason. No matter how many scars you bare, or battles lost and no matter how dirty and tortured you feel, you will always be that empty shell gripping for something until there’s nothing to grasp for anymore. The world runs dry, the cold winds burn your flesh and you stop when you can’t fight anymore. What a life.
You demand so much of me.
Waving freedumb in a pretty vile,
in the hours of the silent dead,
under the radiant eye, I stand,
Reflected confliction and distaste.
The scales continue to weaken my arms,
this contrast of sanity kneeling before insanity,
happiness kissing the soles of indifference.
No wonder I see budding shadows.
We transcend conception
a bond before the first scathe.
And I fight bloodied, to complete
bits and pieces of which I am not.
You demand so much of me.
It feels right and it feels raw, a kiss of life,
It’s sensuality walking a fine line of eroticism,
Releasing parts of me no flesh could dream. Oxytocin.
And yet wailing tears drown out laughter.
In this realm, I straddle submission,
to you, only and forever to you.
Release me and show me
what beauty truly is.