Antwerp – The Cult of the Phallus…

Hidden behind its Catholic exterior, each medieval city hides another face. The face of its pagan origins. Before the Gothic Cathedrals, the religious paintings and the traditionally approved cobbled towns we see today, there existed other beliefs, other modes of life, other realities.

This was most apparent when, after visiting the current historic center of Antwerp, with its magnificently decorated Town Hall and its awe-inspiring Cathedral of Our Lady (described in my previous blog post), we made our way to the Het Steen, or Steen Castle, which is the oldest building in Antwerp, and which used to be the previous center of the city.

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The Het Steen, also known as the Fortress of Antwerp, was built in the Early Middle Ages, after the Viking incursions. It stands on the banks of the river, and serves as the current Museum of Archaeology. 

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As one walks towards this Medieval Castle, with its witch-hat capped towers and rounded windows, the first thing one is faced with is, funnily enough, an enormous statue of a man with a GIANT phallus. Other, smaller people gasping and pointing at the phallus are also part of the statue’s tableau. Honestly, when I saw it first I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It really jarred with the rest of the medieval atmosphere. It had nothing to do with the Catholic medieval town.

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Later, I was told that the statue represented the Scandinavian god Semini. He was a god of fertility and youth, to whom women traditionally appealed if they wanted children. To be honest, I found this quite strange as usually fertility deities tend to be female (for obvious reasons). However I was so speechless while being confronted with that statue with its… er… protruding parts, that I couldn’t really do anything except laugh. Anyways; it seems that Semini was the original god of the town of Antwerp, whose inhabitants were referred to as ‘the Children of Semini’. When the Catholic church established its hold on the town, they reviled Semini, and his cult. Of course, I imagine that the people continued to pray to their god in secret, and later on, when society permitted it, erected this statue in his ‘honor’.

After visiting the Het Steen, we spied the beautiful Standspark, a serene green park with a celestial lake and a number of tame waterfowl, and decided to take a walk and relax while surrounded by nature.

It was quite romantic and a much needed break our sightseeing.

 

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Weekly Writer’s Challenge – FUN

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My tights are ripped, I do not care
Pink hair, tulle skirt and a daredevil flare
sumptuous breasts and a wicked smile
these are enough for a job like mine

Here they come with their slouching gait
one and all – looking for a date
someone warm, who will take them in
as long as they’ve money, it is not a sin

A girl’s got to eat, my mam used to say
For good or for ill, be it night or day
just call me, you know me, I’m always game
many hands and no faces, to me all the same

As long as you pay me, I don’t really mind
if we do it standing, from the front or behind
I’m not picky, not choosy, come on one and all
we can rent a room, or go behind the wall

A pert bottom, parted lips, with high heels and a wink
I’ll have your interest and pecker, before you can blink
Look no further, come hither, yes I am the one
‘Hey Mister, I’m Heather, let’s go have some fun!’

This poem was sent to esthernewtonblog as a Weekly Challenge – https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/10756820/posts/1147306343

Are ppl natural Assholes or is it just Instinct?

What’s the difference between someone who cares for you and someone who’s only using you for his self-serving needs?

Have you ever realized that some of your so-called friends only invite you to go out with them when they have no one else? Or perhaps, that certain people only remember to ask you if you want to meet up when they don’t have a lift? I bet this has happened to anyone.

As I have grown older, I have come to realize more and more how people in general use others. It might be that they are not even aware of it. Maybe they are doing it subconsciously. And yet, magically, as soon as they break up or as soon as their best friend is in a new relationship – there they are again, messaging you to ask what you’re doing during the weekend, or asking whether you’d like to come over for a glass of wine. Sounds familiar?

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And so I ask myself – is everyone really that self-serving? How can one know whether a particular person likes you for YOU, because they enjoy your company – or whether they just need someone, anyone, just to assuage their loneliness or feelings of low self-esteem? Maybe they just want an audience.

And then, suddenly, perhaps it’s you who needs them once in a while – perhaps you are sick, or just down – and what happens? They don’t even bother to ask you what’s wrong, let alone actually care. The only thing they notice is that you’re not there to listen to them anymore, without ever wondering if, for once, it’s you who needs a listening ear or a helping hand. Talk about one-sided.

Or maybe, you might be thinking, I might be too cynical… maybe I just know all the wrong people… right? Thing is, have I known all the wrong people for all the years of my life?

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Maybe it’s just survival instinct. In the end – people are mammals. Our key instinct is to reproduce in order to propagate our genes. And no this has nothing to do with maternal or paternal instinct – of which I have none. It’s simple genetic programming which is found in everyone. Our genes and bodies want to copulate in order for them to propagate. On the other hand, it is our brains which govern our actions. Therefore in my case, I have decided I DO NOT want children. I never wanted children, not even when I was a child myself. Lol so much for maternal instinct.

Anyways, as I was saying, our bodies and genes are programmed to procreate – meaning that they are programmed to feel the need for a mate. That need is what, willy nilly, spurns us on to go out, meet new people, and see if we can click with any of them. It is this sense of survival perhaps, which kicks in when people start using others, in order to get a lift, or to have company, or to hang on to.

Or is it?

Have I lost my faith in humanity, or am I merely trying to find an excuse for these ppl? And if so, why on earth should I?

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What does the ‘ROUGH’ in ‘ROUGH SEX’ mean?

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It’s indisputable that after the introduction of the Fifty Shades of Grey franchise; the semi-erotic soft porn love story between a sexually ignorant student and a pervy good-looking millionaire with latent mummy-issues, the interest in rough kinky sex rose to new heights. Many husbands and partners were faced with women who, after reading the eponymous trilogy of books or watching the movie, welcomed them home with leather lingerie, candy whips and furry manacles. Honestly, I don’t think they complained.

But apart from using bondage as a hopeful plot to revive a sexually-flagging marriage, or as a way of adding new spice to the relationship, what exactly constitutes rough sex?

Want to read more? My article was published on the online mag – EVE.COM – here’s the direct link  – http://www.eve.com.mt/2016/07/02/what-does-rough-in-rough-sex-mean/  

Monday Morning (What do you think of the GRANNY PORN industry?)

I sigh and prod my face into a mask, trying not to slump. The last session has not gone well. The gynaecologist said that unless I stopped with my current lifestyle, not only would the continual discharge and incontinence continue, but the flow would increase too. I don’t really understand what he said the problem is; a ‘prolapsed cervix due to a weakness in the pelvic muscles’. Pelvic muscles – now THAT I can understand.

Mulishly, I gaze at the veggie-shop beside me. I’m so fed up of eating fruit and vegetables to ‘flush out my system’ as Dr Weiss says. What a load of nonsense. Better have surgery, like Didi, and be done with it. A little nip and tuck is all it takes. Change my way of life? As if.

It’s not that I like my job really, I tell myself, as I cross the street. I don’t. All those sweaty struggling faces trying so hard to look consciously earnest. The newbies are the worse, thinking it’s all real and then unable to do the job with all the lights and coffee-swigging mumblers on the side-lines looking on. Just another day for me – a traumatic experience for them. I guess I’m too jaded at this point. And that, too, comes with the job, as my mother used to say.

The bus stops and I get on, swiping my card and taking a look at the driver. I wonder if he recognises me, though obviously, he will not, exactly, remember where. Slowly, I shuffle along, trying to sit down gingerly, carefully, before the bus re-starts. It hurts to sit down. Not where you would expect though. My back and legs hurt, creaking with too much use. At least I never had the presumption to have any children. That would have ended my career for sure. Don’t know how they manage it – some people. Well, not all, just look at Cheeky Cherry – not even able to look her son in the face anymore. Should have known it would come to that at some point.

Arrived. I stumble past an old guy with sunglasses and a greasy baggy woolen vest thrown over frumpy trousers. Blearily he stares at me and looks away. Probably more of an interracial underage aficionado. No loss there. I round the corner, and enter the studio, a dim shabby building squashed between a hippy record store and a run-down block of apartments. Bathroom, then make-up and a look at the rack of underwear prepared for today.

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I glance at the three pimply teenagers waiting around hopefully, then spying me, with widening eyes, grabbing at the pill provided to strengthen their resolve, stiffen their spines, and everything else. No alcohol though. That would defeat the purpose. I wave a hello at Doris, the washed-out fluffer, as zombie-like, she coughs her usual mucus-riddled cackle, and sashay along towards the toilets, mockingly ogling the thin terrified wannabes. Bad, bad Nancy. Wasn’t nicknamed ‘Naughty Nancy’ for nothing.

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© Darkly Dreaming Moonsong

This short story was sent to Keith Kreates as part of his weekly challenge – https://wordpress.com/read/post/feed/36207183/831896472

Why does a Penis get floppy during Sex?

Yesterday I was watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy with my bf (yes, I like Grey’s Anatomy – shoot me ;p), and one of the characters started dating an ex model, whom he liked a lot. This guy was known for being a bit of a Casanova, as well as for his sexual prowess, however when he came to do the deed with this girl – he flopped. Literally.

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The issue apparently was emotion-related. The guy was so used to having one-night stands and sport-sex, that when he tried doing it with someone whom he honestly cared about, he just couldn’t.

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And this got me thinking. Usually, most people tend to function better sexually when they do the act with someone they are in love with or at least feel SOMETHING about. That is the usual idea. On the other hand, this does not mean we never have good sex with people who are just random or whose main attraction is physical, and not emotional. I’m not saying that, however mostly we all agree that when there is emotional depth involved as well, the experience is better on many levels.

The guy in the series was aware of this… too much so in fact. He could take emotionless sexual intercourse, what he could not take was having feelings for someone else. The feelings coupled with the sexual attraction were just too much, and he was scared off. We might think of this situation as a fluke, but it really isn’t.

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Think about it – how many people do you know who are afraid of committing themselves emotionally? One night stands are easy. You meet someone in a bar, you hook up, you make out, you get sweaty and excited for a couple of hours, and then it’s over. The other person goes their own way, and you are free to continue your life as you usually do. Nothing has changed. You had an itch, and scratched it. That’s all.

When emotions are involved, it’s an entire kettle of fish. You know you could get hurt. You know that if that person rejects you, your disappointment will probably affect your self-esteem. You are investing time, moods, and feelings over someone who, no matter how you look at it, is a stranger, and are giving him/her power over you.

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That is what it actually boils down to. When you feel something for someone, you give them power over you. Sex is just sex. Feelings are something else.

Which is why, I guess, the guy from ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ couldn’t get his dick up. Fear is a great lust deterrent. However without fear, without the threat of loosing something precious to us, without putting our heart and emotions on the line – would life be worth living?

I’m not saying that each time your partner’s penis is flaccid and can’t make it, that means he’s afraid of what he feels for you. He could be tired, sick, or plain not in the mood. However when you go out with someone new, and you are about to do it for the first time, if he can’t get it up… that’s something else.

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