It's different when you care, because it is love, and therefore more than physical. Some might argue that the dichotomy between love and sex is oversimplifying and incorrect. It's not that simple either because love goes places that sex can't, yet love can be enhanced in it's sexual expression. The tension, the bond, the desire between two lovers can nourish love as much as it can smother love. Sometime there is a split between love and sex. Sex can be an expression of love, of lust, of desire, of hormones, of the instinct to procreate. The physical offers a connection for love, but it is only a catalyst, a fertile ground, and never a source. Love is transcendent, it is commitment, it is something that psychology cannot contain. We feel things like love, and even call it love, but love is more than what you might feel for a prom date. For some the merely physical is easy until it becomes complicated by love whle for others the physical is complicated until there is love.
This needs a bit of sorting and will be revisited after I've had some sleep.
Love, I suspect is in, or is, the energy two people create between themselves. It is an expression of something universal to humanity, to every human being, but it is unique each relationships expression. Love is never built on pathology.

I've sorted it a bit but I feel like this post will continually edited.

another not so bad day. More chugging along in the right direction. Can a day be called good when it's gratification comes next week, or next month? A good new day, but not a good last one. A day, limiting. Vision ought to be stretched farther. let the devil divide, for small pieces are easier to pilfer than a whole life. No longer great saints and sinners, hell is filling with piddlers and addicts. Don't be damned. Speaking of damnation. We are not blank slates. Perhaps to begin with, but that's not where we are now.. Something happens to us and it carves a little form into our minds. The younger we are the deeper the impression until we are formed from our past and more importantly our reaction to it. Zen erases this, zen is the beginning again, zen is this without our interpretation, zen is nothing, so to speak. I just noticed the keyboard taps. Does that mean that I'm aiming for that clean perception in every moment, or can I allow some of the core personality drives a little room to run if I can aim them in the right direction. Sounds dangerous, well it is, but risk surrounds everything worth having. Allow myself to feel again. I've forgotten, or never knew what it was to desire someone I was attracted to as well. It's almost that desire and attraction,,.....hmmm analyze that. Sex for all the wrong reasons can be so satiating that it feels like attraction and love. One does not have to displace the other as in the past. Ah here it is, chaotic, fiery relationships that have no hope of succeeding, while emulating intimacy, are a distraction from meeting someone who is capable of actual love and intimacy, and stifle emotional maturity. Banging batshit crazy broads posing as love, and you wake up ten years later next to love's drunken half-sister lust, wondering why you don't feel great about it but just know you need more.
Can love be the cure? Love's cosmic orgasm indeed. If my aim is true, will my heart be?

stepping outside yourself to see what the rest of the world needs. I promised myself I wouldn't go into political comments or rants about the state of things. This blog is for the self-centered selfish, self-help, psychotherapy side. Compartmentalize your expression, not your thoughts. I can talk about gratitude and giving back. I watched a movie called murderball. Had to track it down online because none of the local movieplexes carried it, the monopolistic fuckers. Somebody comes along with a great movie about an inspiring bunch of guys, and I have to watch a pirated version because the multiplexes are under contract to play all the garbage hollywood want us to watch. I felt guilty for snatching this one but I had to. I'll donate the price of a couple of tickets and popcorn out of my next check. Yeah I know mtv was behind murderball, but it's a great flick and anyone who's ever felt sorry for themselves should watch that movie. Those guys don't feel sorry for themselves, and they don't want anyone else to. Reminds me of a joke: How many emo kids does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
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None, they just sit in the dark and cry.
Work,Exercise, and writing, a therapeutic day. At least this feels like I'm getting published.

Sometimes you just have to have the veteran sense to stick it out without making bad choices. I remember times when the sense of things floods in without filter and it felt like too much to behold. I wonder now whether it was an excess of light or simply my sorting, my meaning making mechanism had stopped working, the input was severely tweaked so it felt pure. Feeling overwhelmed, it was a waiting game, knowing that what I felt was not what really was, and it was a question of choice. In those moments I defined myself. My environment and my perceptions were no longer determining factors. Decisions assumed epic proportions and I created myself in those moments. In those moments it felt like nothing was reaction, movement simply was.
I lost that somewhere, writing is one way to bring it back. I hope it works. Bad habits are like riding a bike, you never forget how, you just hope you loose them in the attic. Choosing is the same way, you never forget how to choose. You make small things so significant that it feels like you have no choice, but you always do. You can argue the point, but you must remember that where you are right now in this moment came to be from a string of actions you chose.