I know how an orgy goes like. I can vividly describe to you the journey from sobriety to weed-induced highness. I know more about quickies than the originator of the latin root word. I know about infidelity and the nuances of having multiple side-chicks. I know about booze and making punches that knock you out. I know the right words to say to move from brother zone to ‘use me how you please’ zone in one week. I know all these things because I know how to pay rapt attention when it’s story time.
I have my fair share of pious shpiritos sanctus friends, but I prefer those who’ve also been around (NB: Don’t try this at home. It may backfire for you) . I know boys who’ve done things! I know girls who tell me stories they cant ever tell their husbands. Stories so graphic ‘mills & boons’ would pass for a Bible story. So I thought a lot about how come all these people keep confiding in me with all these scandals. Why me? And then I unraveled it. The main ingredient is; Stay calm. Act amused, never surprised. It makes them comfortable talking. I wont tell you the other ingredients because I’m not sure how you’ll use the skill. In fact, I’m writing this minutes after a one hour session of real real stories that brought me super close to losing my signature calmness. Whaaatttt, if I tell you details, I risk turning this from edifying to arousing…but what the heck?
He wasn’t talking like he was bragging, he was just recounting memories in much the same way I’d recount that last time I bought the Dzorwulu waakye only to get home to realise that Aisha hadn’t added the egg I’d actually paid for. It’s a memory, not a credential. So dude spoke a lot. When people reveal scandalous things to you, they’re indirectly reposing trust in you. It’s your duty to sustain their integrity with confidentiality. But all those fancy words mean nothing to me, I’ll tell you all. lol, i kid.
Whilst he spoke and after he left, I wondered if I’d missed out on life. These are all experiences I can never share as mine. No kinky sex, no weed highness, no…no… no nothing. Wouldn’t all those ‘living on the edge’ experiences have made life more…memorable? Aren’t those pleasures worth tasting? Am I and have I made the best use of my virility? Wouldn’t it have been better to live the life and eventually wind down in servitude to righteousness? Oh goodness, should I envy the guy? All the races he’s sampled and run? (<<—Smile if you got the hidden meaning) Wasn’t he better off? Was he?
I mentally put all his orgasms with all those exotic girls and all his wild adventures on one hand and his countenance as he spoke on another. There was no sense of pride, peace or fulfilment. But you know how regretful people will tell you not to be like them and in your head you’re like “Dude, let me make my mistakes! Someone will need me to be advising him like you’re doing now and I don’t want to give hear-say based advises. Let me also sample the zoozi and discover for myself why it’s not worth it.”? So my own mind suggested that thought and then my own mind answered itself.
It said “Ben, the Price you pay to fulfil those fantasies is too high. It’s a complex mysterious kind of Pricing that’s dangerous because of its ability to camouflage itself in Pleasure. It can also camouflage itself in ‘common sense’, so you come out of having made her cum thrice feeling all kinds of Pleasure and accomplishment and not bothering if she breaks up with you or ends up with another guy because afterall, ‘you jie your own for inside’, and when you don’t get to screw her before you lose her, you feel so silly for missing that ‘opportunity’. See the ‘wisdom’ in the logic? For those with a somewhat functioning conscience, Price reasons with you and justifies the pleasure it’s offering. It presents it as…Opportunity. That ability (of Pleasure’s Price) makes it almost impossible to calculate actual cost so that what can even bankrupt you feels as sweet as a Black Friday deal at hello.
You know what makes it even more dangerous? It doesn’t just charge, it infects you with something more addictive than Nicotine. It liaises with the dopamine in your mind and holds your pleasure hostage, releasing bits of it only when you do its bidding. So no matter how empty or regretful you feel after, it doesn’t care! If you want to ‘feel good’, you know what to do. The more you do, the more of it you need to do to cope with life. And it has no promotions like ‘buy 1 get one free’, the more you need the Pleasure, the higher and more ruthless the Price becomes. Because you see Ben, it’s the chains you cant see that bind you tightest.”
KPAAAAA!! It was like a slap of actual common sense from the coarse leathery hand of a career mason. Fam, if your pleasure assessment mechanism is screwed up, you are screwed up. You’ll be the fool with the arrogance of a genius.
The peace that God gives is the sweetest thing in this world. When you rigorously keep your body in the consciousness that it’s His temple, he freely uses your body as his permanent residential address when filling official forms. He honours you and fellowships with you in a way that’s so much more fulfilling and filling. I’m not just talking about sex and drug related proclivities; anger, bitterness, cussing, envy, hatred, deception and the like are all 1st cousins with equally depraving abilities.
I pray that no matter how alluring the ‘Bad Fine Boy’ or ‘Lawless Slay Queen’ life is, no matter how much it tempts, may God reveal the full measure of the asking Price to you and give you grace to do right by Him. Amen.
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