Let me ask you something: how long have you gone without sex? A day? Month? Years? The last time I had full blown, sweaty, filthy sex was approximately six years ago. The whole night a session of jaw-lock and whiskey-soaked flaccidness. A disappointment all around. I don’t blame the girl, fuck no. The problem was a dark secret that I’m going to share within the anonymous confines of the Internet.
I have been wanking for nearly twenty years.
Yes, you read that right.
I can trace the root of my solo clarinet practice to many defining points in my life. Teenage bullying reducing me to a misanthropic totem rooting in disappointment and fear. No success with women shrivelling my ego like a plant staved of water. I am a walking cliché of psychological crutches that I cling to rather then casting them off in a triumphant Forest Gump style to run like the fucking wind.
If you met me and spoke to me, you’ll probably say “Seems like a good bloke”. I like music, art, films, can drink like a fiend but behave as a gentlemen to those around. But beyond the niceness, you’ll see me as a supporting player in the play of life. I’m not married, have no girlfriend and no children. As the song goes “I am a rock, I am an island.” But unlike the song, for a man in his early 30s, this is failure.
But now is a time to twist things around. My goal for this simple blog is to put together a document of my abandoning of the wanking lifestyle (and it is that) to try and break free of this life-long cycle. Also, I want this as a document for every guy who believes that masturbation is the answer. It isn’t. Men are not designed to live alone. Finally, every time I fail and engage in the action of “Shuffling Monkey” I shall detail what I did and how I jerked off. Will Rogers once said you should “Live in such a way that you would not be ashamed to sell your parrot to the town gossip.”
Welcome to death of my Porn addiction.