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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/29ed1E4:
So, uh.
Sometimes I go through phases where aesthetically-appealing people totally captivate me– like, in person, in pictures, whatever, I can’t get enough of staring at them. And like, it’s not necessarily like I want to bang them, or whatever, I just get really fascinated by their various physical features. (Sometimes it’s not even specific. I’m just like this person, so appealing, must behold.)
And then I go through phases where I’m like– here is Beautiful Person, it’s like, a slow-mo gifset of something extremely sexy and high-res, right, fill in your own blanks here– and the comments are all like “dem thighs though!” or like, “soulful eyes!” and I’m looking at it and I’m like, those are two thighs, for sure, and they definitely connect that person’s groin to their knees, that’s what thighs do, yup yup, and eyes, wow, this person has two of them, that’s very human-normal, I get it. And I feel like an alien.
(This is my current state. Oscar Isaac whips his shirt off and I am amused that he has nice pecs and decent abs and that’s entirely the extent of it. Hah, there is musculature on that man’s torso, contrary to the joke that he does not work out! Objectively amusing! I laugh, possibly even out loud! though probably not, let’s be real here.)
The question, the dilemma, is: Is this demisexuality, or is it anhedonia?
The fact that I also cannot stir myself to get excited about the prospect of ice cream strongly suggests to me the latter.
Which is the sort of thing the kids of a previous semigeneration ago used to classify as A Bummer.
So, uh.
Sometimes I go through phases where aesthetically-appealing people totally captivate me– like, in person, in pictures, whatever, I can’t get enough of staring at them. And like, it’s not necessarily like I want to bang them, or whatever, I just get really fascinated by their various physical features. (Sometimes it’s not even specific. I’m just like this person, so appealing, must behold.)
And then I go through phases where I’m like– here is Beautiful Person, it’s like, a slow-mo gifset of something extremely sexy and high-res, right, fill in your own blanks here– and the comments are all like “dem thighs though!” or like, “soulful eyes!” and I’m looking at it and I’m like, those are two thighs, for sure, and they definitely connect that person’s groin to their knees, that’s what thighs do, yup yup, and eyes, wow, this person has two of them, that’s very human-normal, I get it. And I feel like an alien.
(This is my current state. Oscar Isaac whips his shirt off and I am amused that he has nice pecs and decent abs and that’s entirely the extent of it. Hah, there is musculature on that man’s torso, contrary to the joke that he does not work out! Objectively amusing! I laugh, possibly even out loud! though probably not, let’s be real here.)
The question, the dilemma, is: Is this demisexuality, or is it anhedonia?
The fact that I also cannot stir myself to get excited about the prospect of ice cream strongly suggests to me the latter.
Which is the sort of thing the kids of a previous semigeneration ago used to classify as A Bummer.
