Perpetual Notion

I did not find it in-between
‘til there it was, and it alone seen
in space provided sense has swollen
shut to all and kept from fallin

Here sat a warmth that embraces its own
market of flesh but ration of bone
portion enough for grass not known greener
experience though sits a bit leaner

Simple is pleasant and pleasant is fine
but somehow a piece steps out of line
placed under the nose for sniff, say hello
an addition this, and with it I go

Sitting, rest easy, but doing so higher
a little more blood pump and no sign of tire
ditch this reserve, be not so humble
these are the moments that make reason stumble.

While we can not be certain of the reasoning, we know this much, dry humping has lead to the near end of our species. No less popular than this craze, is the search for an explanation why. Why is it that our youth have turned their lusty pubescent gazes away, renouncing sexual heritage? Here everyone pokes a finger in the blame-pie.

There are those who point to the pious for sweeping sexual education under the rug in promotion of abstinence. To do otherwise would be sin, and worthy of eternal damnation. The argument is well accounted for.

Then there is the group calling attention to the mis-educational dangers of television. The music video generation has images burned into their retinas of all this grinding and groping both against objects and each other. Who sanctioned the TV set to give that talk on the birds and the bees? Because they got it all wrong. Television should have avoided the issue, but since they tackled it, they should have the decency to finish the job. This watered down dance floor sex has obscured the act to an obscene wrestling match.

Though we must not forget the experts. From across the board folks are casting burden to the great disseminators of information. The people who have for years given warning of dangers in promiscuity, being unprotected, and not tested. So many things to befall if we do not follow the rules verbatim. Wearing the proper item, taking the daily pill, doing it this week as opposed to the next, getting checked out, making sure they get checked out, doing it this way but not that. All the variables and guidelines. This instinctively animal act is now prefaced with a checklist.

We can stand upon out pile of suspects, though come no closer to reaching anything of use. To continue pointing our fingers we will succeed in no more than tickling around the problem, when what we need to do is penetrate this outer fabric of blame. Mine is not the position to propagate a solution. Though what I can do is stand beside my peers in addressing our dire situation. We, as a society have fallen stagnant. Our youth, for whatever reason, have ceased procreation. A conscious collective effort to end our lineage, an evolutionary step that we can not yet grasp, or plain old apathy? This, that, or the other…  Sex is dead.

This is rather difficult as it is the first entry of my first web log. I have been sitting on the site for a chunk of time but no content, hung up due to the fact that first impressions last forever. I have been dancing around the issue of “premiere entry” as though it were a first date. And here I am, doing my best to speak well, properly punctuate, and emphasize. I am not really sure what we will do for our date, where we will go, and most importantly… what we will talk about. To get the ball rolling, I could speak about myself. But, for all my noble thoughts, it is the slanderous tongue has a nasty habit for self-deprecation. So we will hold off on my story. At least until I am comfortable enough to speak at length from beyond my posterior. You are not saying too much, and I not much of merit, but the air gets filled none the less. You have noticed my pecky typing technique. Yes, Mavis Beacon, Sticky Bear, they all failed me. I remained an inept typist until the family computer got American Online in Junior High. It was there that I honed my skills in the unforgiving back alleys of the chat room. There is absolutely no pity for the struggling typist amongst the web chatter. WyldChick17 would ask the room for favorite bands, and before my 7th grade hands could enthusiastically pound out “Nirvana and Korn” there would be fifteen responses to three other questions just posed. Damn! Wow, look how the times goes. It was not too akward was it? So there is a chance we can do this again? Yes, I will bring a little more conversation next time. Do..  ah, do I get, get a kiss? No? No, that is cool. Yeah, I totally agree, “never” would be a far better time for that. Cool. Seeya next time.