It's no use reading a lesbian novel and not wanting to masturbate. But I told myself not to because I've gotten off way too much today. Or rather, now it's the next day. But in the past 24 hours I've gotten off too much. I didn't count the orgasms but I think after five it gets a little tiresome. Tiresome isn't even the word. If an orgasm is the pleasurable climax gained from a steady upward slope of pleasure, than it's the exact opposite for a certain amount of orgasms. It seems to be the downward slope and it stops being pleasurable, almost emotionally. Like, it brings me down emotionally and physically too. My body starts feeling... like crap. Not that I feel pained or that I feel self conscious... sort of inbetween those two feelings. Like instead of my body being pained or my emotions being depressed it's almost like my body is depressed. It just feels useless and groggy and grubby.

That's what I felt from all the masturbating. Although I did it throughout the day and not all at once. I slept a lot though and when I sleep a lot during the day I tend to masturbate a lot. Cause I'm in bed and I always seem to wake up horny. Plus, I'm reading a lesbian novel. It's actually pretty raunchy. It's more or less a few episodes of The L Word piled into a novel, but set in the late 1800's. But I like the author, despite her lax views on sex.

And lesbianism.. mmmmm. I have to say that I'm still quite firm on the fact that I do not want a boyish lesbian lover. If I want a boy, I want a damn boy. If I want a girl, I want a damn girl. I can't stand the mixing of the sexes. It confuses me so extremely to see a girl dressed as a boy, acting as a boy. I just seem to have different goals concerning the two. Like I can't treat a boy the way I'd treat a girl and I can't treat a girl the way I'd treat a boy.

Although you'd think that would mean I can't love or have sex with a girl but it doesn't mean that. I look to girls the way boys look to me. I don't really think, Oh, this is lovely, I may make a friend today. I think about sex. Not the way guys do. It's more that instead of wanting to have sex with a girl, I entertain the idea of having sex with any girl - and an attractive girl reminds me of this. I still don't have sex with just anybody who comes along, male or female. So when I'm around girls I'm stimulated by the prospect of having something sexy and intimate between us but I don't actually want her. I haven't really wanted anybody, probably, since Shannon. Humph.

Well, I have wanted women in general, longed for them. And for their bodies. I have a cruel reminder of how alluring their bodies can be, since I have one of my own to see and feel every day. But I haven't cared for anyone in particular.

So I have about 50 or 60 pages left in my lesbian novel. And I want to get off again but I don't want to masturbate. And I don't want the fantasies that I use when I masturbate, otherwise I would probably want to masturbate. I think when you do the same thing all day long and it only makes you feel like crap, and yet you still long for something similar.... *sigh* you begin to really long for new sensations. I hadn't really thought about it. The difference between imagining something in your head and actually feeling it played out on your body.

I think my fantasies stimulate my emotional or perhaps mental faculty more than anything. Like the the thought of how hot whatever I'm thinking of would be. Which is why I would not actually act out over half the things I think about. Cause it's only the thought of how hot it is, not the thought of how pleasurable it would be to have happen. I think physical pleasure falls short if you're not emotionally pleased at the same time, and I wouldn't be, doing some of the things in my fantasies.

I seemed to have talked myself out of wanting these new sensations. But that's because I've intimidated myself with thoughts of other things that put pressure on the excitement, sort of smother it and such. I guess I shouldn't worry since I have no one to give me these new sensations. I'm tired of feeling on both sides - my hand and the body that I touch with my hand. I want to either touch someone and not feel the touch of my hand at the same time. Or to be touched, and not how it feels to be touching.

I really have intimidated myself and now I don't want it at all. I'm such a party pooper!

And all I have is a thirst that can't be quenched. I know it will just make me want to masturbate and I'm tired of it. Booo. Like I said, I'm even sick of my fantasies. They don't bring me pleasure. I'm sick of fantasies at all. They're so tiresome, they have the same effect on my mental body as the ten orgasms have on my physical body. It's really depressing me.

But what can I do? Sex is so unrealistic for me at this point.

I guess, to dig a little deeper into my longings, it's fair to say that I'm tired of my interaction with people being more unpleasurable than pleasurable. I'm trying to find the right word and pleasurable is the best I can find. I want to say happy but it's really a sort of pleasure felt when you get along with someone, when you bond with them, when you feel for them, when you're intimate with them. It just feels good.

With my parents, Amelia, Kristen, John, Dan... all of them, it's an unpleasantness I feel. I don't feel pleasure as I interact with them. Interacting with them only brings me tension and unpleasantness. Probably because my expectations are not met. I want to have something good with them and instead I have only troublesome things brought to me from interacting with them. I want to be pleased. To be pleasured.

And I want it to be real. Like when I'm pleased and pleasured by John, I know it's a lie. I know that the flattery he gives me is untrue and unrealistic. He doesn't care about me and he doesn't love me. He doesn't want to be with me. He doesn't get pleasure out of my company and my presence in his life. At least, not in a great sense. He says talking to me makes him happy but that's it. I'm just a friend. Who he stupidly makes a romantic deal of for no apparent reason, since it isn't real.

Isis is the only one I feel pleasure by. Obviously a very different sort of pleasure than I'd expect from someone my age. But even so, it's not enough. When I'm around her all I want to do is squeeze the life out of her. Or rather, let's not concentrate on the life taking and concentrate on the force of my squeeze. Like I just HAVE to cuddle her and get something from it. Some sort of satisfaction to calm whatever it is that I need from people and I'm not getting.

Needless to say, she won't let me hug her and squeeze her. She likes her space and her independence. Although she can be clingy, it's never affectionately. And I just have to steal in two second squeezes before she pushes me away or gets frustrated and cries. :(

Gah, my throat burns in this queer way. Like fire. But it doesn't burn, it just feels like there is literal fire in my throat. If I were more or less the same temperature as fire, that is, cause otherwise I would suffer. This just feels like a flame is licking the inside of my throat except, it's not searing me.

:( I don't know what to do... Masturbating is not even close to the solution to my problem. It's just the easiest within my reach. And if I don't have a million orgasms, it sort of quenches something. Having more than a few pretty much makes me loathe whatever it is that needs to be quenched. Since I don't even know what it is, I don't really know where to even point my hate.

The idea of being with people, realistically, just seems like such an unpleasurable venture. What do I hope to gain, except displeasure. (which is the word I probably should have been using the whole time to illustrate pleasure in the negative but I prefer the former.)

And that seems too trivial a note to leave it on but fuck it. Because writing to someone or anyone is establishing interaction with someone or anyone and that's exactly what is not so fucking pleasurable as I wish it to be.