The World Taught Her Masturbation

image from Postsecret

The world taught her masturbation.

It was more than fifteen years ago when the game started. She sat beside her newfound playmate while he started the engine. Her body trembled along with everything that’s vibrating around her. She felt a spider inching its way up between her legs. The unnamed playmate was at the driver seat, and she was kneeling beside him, waiting for her classmates to finally come.

What’s taking them so long? They’ll miss our game. She watched other kids playing games she played before. This was different. She didn’t have to do anything but she always got rewarded. The controlling playmate took her left hand and directed her to caress what seemed like a bulge inside his pants. “Kailangan mo yan himasin, kasi ahas yan at pag di mo hinimas, tutukain ka.” She nodded.

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Inside her room, the little girl could hardly hear what her mom and dad were discussing. She couldn’t understand why they looked so upset when she finally told them her secret. A secret that only she and her playmate knew. Wag mo sasabihin sa Mommy at Daddy mo, hindi ka na nila papayagan maglaro pag nalaman nila. But she didn’t intend to tell her Mommy; it was like an accident. While her mom was bathing her, she proudly narrated how her playmate would also touch that place between her legs. It was like a series of games that she always won. Her playmate lavished her with toys. “Kaya nga po madalas ako may mga dalang new toys, Mommy e.” The little girl eagerly bragged with eyes expectant of her Mommy’s approval. She could tell how surprised and proud her Mommy was, the little girl felt triumphant for having achieved something this big. For a second, she thought her Mommy was going to cry.

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The girl never understood why she couldn’t sit on the passenger seat of her School Bus anymore. Why she wasn’t allowed to talk to her favorite playmate. Why one day, the School Bus stopped fetching her and her playmate stopped playing with her.

She didn’t need to play with anyone anymore. From then on, she decided to just play with herself. She was in control.

The world taught her masturbation because for a time, her playmate was her world.

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DISCLAIMER [added the day after this story was posted]: Didnt think 'twas necessary to write one but apparently IT IS needed. This is FICTION. Please stop sending me messages consoling me for being sexually molested. I mean, I appreciate the concern but seriously, I WASN'T HARASSED.

The Freedom of Expression

Some writers accuse other writers of being people who need ego-massages, [intellectual] masturbation, and of being senseless.

When did the world become so self-righteous? When did people become so indulgent in the supremacy of their own ideas that they forget how unthinkably differently we all live our lives? Why do people expect other people to abide by rules and standards that they have set for themselves?

 This doesnt only involve writing, this involves everything that we think we know and understand. How sure can we be that our self-declared purpose and ideals are what the world needs to make it a better place?  If the #freedom of expression's purpose is to initiate #change, then maybe by encouraging people to be more open and more expressive of their opinions and their emotions can actually initiate the change that we need.  The key is open discourse.

 Life is one big stock market. We exchange thoughts, we exchange feelings, in the end we can never be sure which thoughts and feelings are to be followed and which are just futile attempts to understand the complexity of our individual intellect and emotions. I isolate opinion and feelings because scientific facts aren't areas that need opinion. These are theories that have been proved by the scientific method and shouldn't even be part of any argument.

 Our opinions are our opinions alone. We can never expect people to abide with them. Who are we to decide which is senseless or not? No single person or group of people can claim monopoly over critical thinking. I must admit, I wrongly judge people. I criticize opinions, but I draw the line by respecting them, and not imposing my beliefs on them.

 I'd rather be a pajama writer than someone boxed in some hypocritical definition of what a writer should be. I'd rather be free. -@LegallyBlunt, "Freedom of Expression" Artwork: "Bandera Filipina" #JuanLuna y Novicio Souvenir design 1899