“Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.”
-Arthur Rimbaud, Song of the Highest Tower, Collected Poems (1872).

Life brings us together, sometimes these gestures than make us feel like we’re breathing into each other are the ones we remember the most. A “sensation”… We don’t always remember things that happened, but we remember a sensation we felt deep in our guts. Depending on your sensitivity level, you will recall these sensations differently.

I’m amazed at how the human brain records certain things with so much precision. A touch, a smell, again… a sensation. Unfortunately, sometimes it can be a bad thing too… A rape victim will remember vividly these violent sensations, they’ll scar her/his skin so deeply that these touches will automatically be associate with disgust and pain. The trauma left in the body will turn into never healing bruises. This can happen also with a seemingly innocent bad experience, not necessarily something as brutal and horrifying as a rape. My point being; what we do, what we experience and the choices we make define us.

Let’s avoid inner bruises!

We should always be aware of each other. Treat each other’s body carefully and with respect, as if your partner’s body was a sanctuary. Not so many people have the luxury to explore their sexuality with carelessness and find themselves fully blossomed. To be a shameless “erotic” person with no restrictions or discomfort whatsoever, you truly need to have no care in the world. Be a bit of a gypsy… Or a libertine.

A sensation that comes from deep within our subconscious can be a feeling that reminds us how pleasant life is. It reminds us of our past loves and pleasures. Sometimes it can be something as simple as the smell of freshly cut grass in the summer’s morning…

I’ll close up with my favorite of them all, makes me feel like to go on an adventure where I’ll just walk aimlessly in nature;

“On the blue summer evenings, I shall go down the paths,
Getting pricked by the corn, crushing the short grass :
In a dream I shall feel its coolness on my feet.
I shall let the wind bathe my bare head.

I shall not speak, I shall think about nothing :
But endless love will mount in my soul
And I shall travel far, very far, like a gypsy,
Through the countryside – as happy as if I were with a woman.”

Arthur Rimbaud, Sensation (March 1870.)

Till soon…
– D


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