I have writer’s block. Which as you know, is the most stellar of all stellar ways to draw a crowd of readers to your blog. Other than to talk about anatomy or a tongue in cheek account of all of your failures and bad decisions in the past four years. Chetan Bhagat was on to something apparently. I don’t like that I have mentioned him more than once in the history of my blog, even if it was with derision.
Anyway, that is part of the reason I didn’t write. The other part is that I have been shit busy what with all of my elective classes starting and having to teach 2nd years stuff they largely don’t seem to want to know about. This is an impediment to them actually listening and learning something, but I still seem to enjoy this whole teaching experiment, oddly enough. All right, let’s not be coy about these things, I fucking love reading about literature and being able to talk about it, even to a reluctant and largely silent audience, even as they desperately wait for an hour to pass by so they can learn some real law. I may be being very negative about them right now because I may or may not be in the cranky time of month.
Since I do have writer’s block, I will be using the three embarrassing confessions I have to make to fill in this blog, lead me to things I can write about and hopefully, bring it together cohesively in the end. If I fail, then I take full responsibility for any pain I may cause you. I don’t really. Don’t piss me off today whores.
First confession – The rape fantasy was more than once. It wasn’t recently and before everyone starts handing me feminist literature in the nature of Andrea Dworkin (we referred to her in class recently), let me explain to you the nature of fantasies, at least for me. [Side note – this came up because someone asked me about rape fantasies recently. Not that it counts for much, but I think people should know I don’t casually start thinking about rape fantasies on a daily/ weekly basis.] And very likely for a lot of girls. And maybe guys too, how would I know? If you fantasize about something and even get off on it, it does not mean you necessarily want that in real life. And if you don’t fantasize about something, it doesn’t mean you don’t want it. I have done a lot of things I never fantasized about, and don’t particularly like the thought of while fantasizing. Mind you, I have never really fantasized about women, children or animals, so I really can’t say about those… although if you’re fantasizing about children or animals, you should probably see someone. Just a suggestion. Not NAMBLA or any of its known associates, but someone.
Coming back on point – just because I fantasized about a threesome once does not mean I actually want one in real life. I may, but not to my present knowledge. I think that counts as confession number two. Should I be worried about how many of my confessions are sexual in nature? And how willing I am to tell the world about them? And again, we segue back from potentially psychologically damaging introspection to the slightly less potentially psychologically damaging content – fantasies.
The thing to remember about rape fantasies when a girl has them is the fact of narration, which is also something I keep bringing up in my tutorials. By the fact of narration I mean that the simple fact of me creating and narrating the fantasy to myself is in and of itself the consent that makes the whole scenario not rape, even in the universe of my imagination.
If you want to know how this whole situation would play out in the real world, in the case of actual random guy raping me, it would go like this-
me: No! No! No! Fucking hell no!
And hopefully, that would be followed by this (I’m the one with the knife/bow/gun/ btw) –
Let me be clear – this is a situation where I was about to be raped. I will be claiming self-defense and/or temporary insanity.
In a real life consensual sexual situation, this is what would happen at the most – me and whatever guy would have a BDSM arrangement, wherein the safe word is not “no” or “Stop”, but something like “Unicorn” (no phallic imagery intended but go ahead if you like). So in the fucking process, even as I say “no” or “stop”, the guy shouldn’t stop. He should stop when I say “Unicorn”, however. This is hypothetical, believe me. If I were in a BDSM relationship, I wouldn’t have time to write. Or eat. Or live.
I hope we all learnt something about human sexuality today. I feel like I have come to an uncomfortable place in this post….
Third confession- I may have lied to get out of dhabha plans just now because I’m uncomfortable in certain social situations unless certain friends are not around. And once those friends refuse to go to dhabha because he/she is busy with tax work, I may resort to barefaced lies like “I have loosies” even to people who would technically be qualified as my oldest friend. I feel a bit bad. Not too much, but a little bit.
That little cryptic confession leaves us nowhere to go…. which brings us back to writer’s block. I have it because I haven’t read or watched anything new in a while. Reading things inspires me to write. Which is not to say that I copy ideas or styles of writing – at least not consciously. I just have thoughts in my head because of book and am therefore able to write. For example, reading The Great Gatsby led to my thoughts and post on rich people in Delhi. Hyperboleandahalf cites watching and reading funny stuff as her writer’s block cure, and you know…. Hyperboleandahalf – your argument is invalid.
I can’t believe I wrote one thousand words worth of nothing while I have writer’s block. Eh.