Thanks, Demon - I Needed That

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Me, a pornographer?! Perish the thought.
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rexfelis
rexfelis
24 Followers

Today I came face to face with a demon. I was surfing the Internet, and reading some stories at my favorite erotic literature site (Literotica, of course), and the thing leaped out into my mind and spacked me across the ego. I say it spacked me because demons spack, they don't smack. But that's another story.

So this demon spacked me across my ego good and hard, and boy did that get my attention. Just one good hard spack, and I was all ears. Of course, this was all going on in my mind, so I wasn't really all ears; but I was suddenly paying a lot more attention than I had been just moments before, let me tell you! And what this invisible but oh-so-unpleasant beast said to me shocked me. Knocked my socks off! Or would have, if I was the type to wear socks. (I prefer deck shoes without, or barefoot, thank you.)

This demon stood there, in my mind, and casually knocked my other thoughts out of the way with its invisible girth - what an odd word, girth, isn't it? - and stood there forming a hole which I could see through, all the while demanding that, of all things, I am a pornographer.

Pornographer? I'm a pornographer?! ME?!!

"Yes!" it screamed. "YOU! You are a pornographer! And you should stop lying about it. Face it, you're a pornographer."

"But, I -"

"Pornographer."

"I can't -"

"Pornographer!"

"But -"

"Are you fucking deaf or something? Jesus, man, face it! You're a fucking pornographer!"

I didn't know demons could say "Jesus".

"How am I a pornographer? I'm not a pornographer. I'm an artist! I'm a writer! I'm a photographer! But not a pornographer!"

"Fuck me in my dirty demon double ass, man, you fucking write porn for fun! You write pornographic stories. For fun. You are a pornographer."

"But I -"

"Let's look at this in geek speak, shall we? What do we have when we say 'pornographer'? We have the word 'porno' and the word 'grapher'. What's 'grapher' mean, Sherlock? That's right, it means 'writer'. And what's 'porno' mean? I don't think I have to spell that one out for ya."

I stood there, inside my own mind, stunned. This invisible demon bastard had cornered me quite effortlessly in an argument. Mainly because I argue logically, and it was right. I write sexually explicit fiction for fun. And call it what I may, it's porn. I'm a pornographer.

Wow. I just thought about it for a while. I'm a pornographer. Sure, writing is an art form, and I do strive to become a better writer when I write; and sure, my written works are an artistic expression for me in some ways... but there's also that fact that I write sexy stuff because it's an outlet for my raging, endless, unstoppable sex drive. That, and I love getting feedbacks.

So I'm thinking about this little self discovery, and another of the little sculptures in my mind begins to crumble. Each of these sculptures is one of my self delusions. I used to have one that was made of white marble, where I was depicted as a chivalrous knight in shining armor with sword and shield, racing to the rescue. That was one of the first to crumble. I also had one where I was perfect. That one went, too. I've been chipping away for years at the one where I'm always right, and I'm making progress... but my statue showing me as a romanticized poet-writer-artist turned to dust then, before my eyes.

"Yes," I thought. "I guess when you put it that way... I'm a pornographer."

I thought back to the time I'd been trying to learn something about photography from a guy I'd met online at the very same site I'd had this little demon jump into my mind from. He'd told me he was a pornographer, not a photographer. I was aghast. It was scandalous! At the time, I could not comprehend why any man would admit such a thing.

But I'm not a pornographer. Really, am I? I don't write what I write because I want to make money from it. At least, not so far. I write it because, well, it's a great way to vividly explore things I'll never get the chance to really do. Or, perhaps things I would never be able to bring myself to do for real. Such as fuck a plant. I'm sorry, but plant fucker, I am not. That's just the way it is. I cannot change that about myself.

To me, a pornographer was never someone who wrote erotica or X rated stuff, it was someone who created X rated visual experiences. The guy with the camera who would rent a hotel room and spend a few hours shooting women masturbating, spreading their legs, fucking themselves with various things, and pissing on the carpet just to be naughty. Or the guy who videotaped himself fucking his dog. Or girlfriend. Or both, maybe. That's what I always thought of as porn.

But I suppose I can no longer say I write erotica, because seriously, I've written several stories that are beyond just erotic. My one and only attempt at BDSM, for example. Surely that was porn? And my incest story? And...

But wait a minute, isn't porn supposed to be something that has no redeeming value otherwise? I mean, to me, most of my written works have been "erotica" because they were also excursions into the art of writing. They were designed to be better than my previous works, and they were designed to make my readers respond in a specific way. Usually, they succeeded; sometimes, they would be read by someone who, for no apparent reason, would read all thirty pages of a story and then conclude that they hated that particular genre. Personally, I think those people need to pull something out of somewhere, but we'll say no more about that here.

So, according to some, I'm a pornographer. Maybe I need to consider this some more. Because I never thought of myself as such. I always thought of myself more as an artistic free spirit who helped others enjoy themselves through my guiding words. Then again, there is no one definition of pornography, either.

Can I come to terms with being thought of by some as a pornographer? Will I assimilate this into my psyche and become a stronger person for it? Because really, what I'm doing here is facing reality. It isn't pleasant for me on some levels, but then again, logically I see nothing to feel ashamed of, and nothing to feel bad about. In being honest with myself, I'm shedding light on some of the hidden corners of myself, and hopefully clearing away the spiders and their webs, too. Honestly, who wants spiders and spiderwebs in their minds? Not me. Bad enough we have house spiders. Although most of them have decided there's less chance of being murdalized if they remain outside, come to think of it. And I have been known to murdalize 'em.

So maybe I'm a pornographer after all. Then again, maybe not. In any case, you have to admit, sometimes demons are useful. After all, if this one hadn't shown up and disrupted my little party, I'd still have no clue that - gasp - I might be a pornographer. Now would I? And that couldn't possibly be a good thing. And you, dear reader, wouldn't have had this little wander through my rambling mind.

Thanks, demon. I needed that.

rexfelis
rexfelis
24 Followers
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Sean RenaudSean Renaudabout 19 years ago
Great writing, wrong category

I love the style of writing, the detail and the over all feeling of your story. Just how in the hell was this an Essay and not a Non Erotic? Whatever it caught my attention and dragged me right through till the end!

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