Porn Made Me Numb – The Real Alternatives

Before I knew it, the damage had already been done.

A sort of digital cancer, I wish I’d never discovered it.

Preaching morals is not my thing and I won’t make an exception here. Porn isn’t wrong per se, nor do I recommend you quitting it. This is simply a documentation of experiences and the severe side effect which I’ve overlooked for too long.

I am far from being an addict or heavy user – weeks could go by without even thinking about jerking off. Still, looking back to pre-porn times, I’ve noticed some alarming changes.

The Creeping Desensitization

Years before ever browsing the web, I could look at a girls’ name on my phone and be aroused enough to masturbate to. Yes, I would simply see her contact info, or a cute TV host and come.

Arousal was built slowly, I would get goosebumps all over my body, and when I came, it wasn’t just an ejaculation, but one powerful full body orgasm. It felt amazing – my entire body freezing for a couple of seconds. To say the least, I was in touch with my body.

Unfortunately, things have changed when porn came into play. Nowadays, I need to bring in the big guns to get feel anything at all. I am talking about hardcore porn, and not just one clip, but an assortment. The longer and the more often I watch, the more extreme it gets.

Whenever I abstain for a couple of days, the moment I flip on porn again, I get aroused quicker and easier. Seeing a cute dressed girl is often enough to get a full erection. Say porn is harmless – I know it isn’t and desensitization is fucking real.

The scary part is that these side effects are fairly normal, but it can even get extremer. There’s guys who’s porn usage gets totally out of hand and to the point where they watch a fetish that they weren’t even interested in initially. Gay porn, shemales and a host of other things that I don’t even want to mention.

If that doesn’t scare you, I doubt that anything will. One guy even ended up visiting transsexual hookers, but lost his interest after quitting porn.

Real Life Porn

Let’s be realistic, there are no real alternatives. People wouldn’t watch porn if it weren’t for the easy access, unlimited variety and comfort. Online porn is unbeatable. Looking for an alternative, I was always willing to make a trade-off.

Ditching variety for the realness, or intensity of the experience. Then, there are great alternatives available.

The most obvious one being masturbation without porn. There’s a ton of ways to do it – and make it more enjoyable. From thinking about I girl I wanted to fuck, to practicing full body orgasms and eventually using the Fleshlight, I’ve experimented with many of these alternatives.

Once you get a taste of it, you won’t revert to digital pussy. Getting in touch with yourself and experiencing more intense orgasms is something porn can’t easily compete with.

Nothing beats real pussy though. The real deal will always be the best option, and if you can’t get laid otherwise, this means banging a hooker. The healthiest way to experience porn in real life. Anything you can think of.

Depending on your location, this might not be an option. If that’s the case, you are seriously in the wrong place. Banging hookers is something I’ve have always recommended and wrote about in in-depth.

Ultimately, I’ve noticed that horniness is not the catalyst for porn usage. It’s not obvious, but boredom is often the real cause. I am looking for a way to distract myself, the same way I use food. There rarely is a real physical need. In conclusion, another way to get off porn is to become aware of how and when you use it.

Horny? Fair enough, the alternatives above are the way to go. In any other case, solving the issue directly or finding alternatives – e.g. to deal with boredom – is a better solution.

Language Exchange Sex – My First Date (And Lay)

UPDATE 2018: This was originally posted a few years ago. While the experience was fun, today I would simply get an African freelancer in Bangkok instead – to save both time and money – and have a better sexual experience overall!

Language Exchange Sex … it’s quite an experience.

Don’t worry. No more lay reports. Ever.

When I moved to London in 2003, finding people with similar interests was easy. Meeting girls was a different story. Online dating came to mind, but it seemed to be too much work.

I speak a foreign language, there must be girls interested in language exchange.

Scanning through a couple of sites, I quickly found a couple of willing girls. From there on, it was as easy as setting up a profile, uploading a picture and blasting messages.

The two girls I ended up chatting with were 24 and 17, both practicing their Finnish.

Writing on WhatsApp quickly gets boring, and there’s few things I hate more than boring smalltalk. At a certain point, I either tune out or start talking rubbish. Self-amusement is an art, and at times, I feel like I have it down.

Speaking your mind is awesome and a great way to give yourself a laugh.

It might have been my comments, but the entire conversation turned sexual very quickly. A couple of days later, she had already sent a naked picture and it clearly wasn’t about language exchange anymore. We never articulated it, but now it was only about planning the hook up.

Language Exchange Sex … About To Happen

When we met at East India DRL, a metro station close to my crib, I felt quite at a pinch.

I’ve never met, kissed or fucked a girl before. Now, this girl was expecting a full-blown session right after the meetup.

The moment you’re about to die, this is what it must feel like.

I was nervous, really fucking nervous.

When I arrived, she was already waiting downstairs. I clearly saw her, but told myself otherwise, while still standing on the first floor. 5 minutes passed. Yes, I tried to bullshit myself out of the situation.

She calls. I don’t respond.

When I finally took the elevator downstairs, we met for the first time. In an attempt to break the ice, I initiate awkward smalltalk.

We walked back to the area I was living in, looking for a place to have coffee. She wanted to have coffee upon meeting. So, we wandered around for quite a bit while still pretending this is language exchange.

Poplar, London, is a great place to feed yourself with kebab, apparently not for coffee dates. It started getting cold and I suggested going to a nearby mall, one that had Starbucks.

Will you go upstairs and change?

To paint a clear picture, I was wearing a jogging suit and hoodie.

No, I certainly wasn’t changing anything. She suggested meeting another time, so I walked her back to the metro station. Farewell said, and I was heading back home.

Prior to this date, I had a clear goal in mind.

Make it last 10 minutes.

Goal accomplished, but I couldn’t deny my disappointment. After all, I thought this was a sure thing, that I was getting laid.

Back at home, I sent her one more message saying that it was hilarious and a bit weird. We both didn’t know what we wanted.

I knew what I wanted. I just wanted to have sex. lol

Not the response I expected.

Is this a fucking joke?

This girl had been super confident all along, she would’ve said something if that had really been on her mind. I was literally waiting for her to articulate what we both had planned.

She didn’t and I concluded she’s not interested.

When I talked to her afterwards, things started to make sense. I didn’t compliment her, in her mind I wasn’t interested. I, on the other hand, thought meeting up is a clear enough signal for my interest.

I told her to come back now, and half an hour later, she was knocking at my door. One would think the summit of awkwardness had already been reached. Apparently, not quite.

Life is full of surprises.

As we were sitting on my bed, I was too scared to make a move.

I know, this girl came to get fuck and I was still bitching out. Raw masculinity, right there. Without any prior experience, it seemed to be a bit too much, too fast. After all, I only met her minutes ago.

Oh my God, this is so awkward!

I couldn’t have agreed more. She tells me to lie down and things go primal. Statistically speaking, this went down as sex, although it didn’t looking anything like it. I was so nervous, an entire pack of Viagra wouldn’t have done much.

African Girl London

What about the other girl?

She also ended up sending me naked pictures, but we never met. I wanted to stay in touch with both of them, but things went south.

When I read this stupid pickup advice that you should never lower your standards and only ever go with your perfect girl, I cut out both of them. We never talked again.

Well, that’s the story of how language exchange sex can happen. Really nothing spectacular and if you ask me, “language exchange” is often times only a code for “hook up“.

How is language exchange sex different to regular dating?

It’s not really much different except that you and the girl are usually from different countries or culture – adding a certain exotic factor, which can make things easier.

Of course, for the girl, it’s easier to meet/hook up because the overall excuse is that you’re simply doing an innocent language exchange.

110 Days Meditation – My Experience, Benefits

He had taken things to a new level. Quite literally.

Rising above thought, doing the impossible.

As he burned he never moved a muscle, never uttered a sound, his outward composure in sharp contrast to the wailing people around him.

On June 11, 1963,  Buddhist monk Thích Quảng Đức sat down in the middle of an intersection, had gasoline poured over and burned himself to death.

I didn’t plan to go out in style, but couldn’t deny the power of meditation anymore. It doesn’t just work, but does so in very powerful and life-changing ways. Real changes occurring during meditation – the ability to maintain crystal clear focus and calmness even in the face of extreme situations.

Most problems are mind-made and becoming more present to the moment became my way of tackling them.

Lunch Break At The Mall

It’s not hard to figure out what people must have thought. After all, I had sat there staring straight ahead, not even flinching once. 20 minutes – as if I were in another world.

People started looking. I was the weird guy.

Spending my lunch break in the mall had become a daily meditation practice. Comfortable sofas and away from work, I sat down in an effort to becoming more present. Not the best environment, but a challenge to my willpower.

Open-eye meditation – staring right through the entrance of a clothing store – had become my preferred style. With a bit of practice, I was able to have people walk through my field of vision without getting distracted.

This ability become more solid over time, where I would rarely feel tempted to tilt left or right. If I did, it was for some really hot piece of ass. The real challenge was looking as little psycho as possible, so that staff wouldn’t inform security and get me kicked out.

Closing my eyes – something I had never tried.

While visual distractions were never much of an issue, I had a hard time focusing on my breathing. I decided to close my eyes and focus on my body. That became easier, but also to drift off. Too easy.

In fact, I had to change things again because losing myself in thoughts became the norm.

Time to ditch the stopwatch.

I had started out using a timer for exactly 20 minutes each session. When I switched to counting breaths, focus rose to another level. Instead of sitting still for a certain period, the goal became counting to 250 breaths – while not losing count of the number. This was a great way of focusing on breathing.

Occasionally, I would even do challenges to see how far I could take things. The records is at 3,000 breaths, which must have taken me at least an hour to reach.

The Real Benefits

Whatever I was doing, it was easier and quicker to get into the flow state. Daily meditation didn’t magically solve all my problems, but it has made me significantly calmer – especially in pressure situations.

Rising above thinking and becoming aware of my own reactions happened naturally more often, but still took effort.

Once immersed in a difficult situation, it was easier dealing with it, but stepping out of my comfort zone – that first step – was just as hard. Before starting the practice, my expectation was to be able to see through the illusions of fear and anxiety, and proceed with easy.

Maybe I haven’t practiced long enough, but I certainly wasn’t even close to having these abilities.

Nowadays, I don’t move around nervously as most people do. I will sit still, breathe and experience my body. The real challenge is not cracking up when I see other people flinch or constantly shift posture.