Sensual Philosophy …

I told her I would write it back in September. I guess, better late than never. There was a lingering void in place of my passion. As such, I lacked the inspiration needed to motivate my fingers. I don’t know why, action is being taken now … however, I am in the mood, and this … is long overdue.

Not written to her, nor about her, but … For Amliv.

Turn . up . your . volume . and . hit . play . below . & . take . your . time . reading . this.

My eyes open. I stretch my arms and exhale the remainder of the night before. You are … the first thought on my mind. I smile on the reminiscence of a lovely moment … while you’re still holding on tight. Head on my chest, rising and falling with each breath that’s left … for the rest … you captured. I look at you; Anita Baker’s Rapture CD is on repeat … playing … softly.

Have you ever lain in bed all day with someone you love? A time where everything else seems to be inconsequential (even time itself), and the only thing you desire to be is with that person. That day, the only effort being made is found within moments of making love. It lies within that thin line, where laziness becomes productive.
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Even in the summer, I’m used to sleeping with comforters … but right now, a thin sheet is all that covers our nakedness. “Body heat can be quite lovely”, I think before wondering what you’re dreaming about. I love to watch you sleep. The peacefulness within your expression is priceless. Gone are the convictions sifting within daily thoughts … no stress.

Have you ever noticed the harmony between the smell and taste of an orange? It has the same synchronicity as bodily secretions … where funk tastes exactly how it smells. Sometimes, there’s a division in the funk. There’s a line drawn between good and bad funk. Which in turn is subject to controversy because its relative after all isn’t it? And although this may be taboo … I want … to get … funky … with you.
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My left hand touches your face, my palm … lightly … gently … softly against your cheek. Fingertips draped over … finding themselves laying against the nape. Your neck arches, tilting your head in my direction … I love the way you naturally react to me. I lean in and kiss you intensely / deeply / passionately … to break your slumber. You awaken to the sound of your own muffled moan. You close your eyes again lost in that moment of ecstasy …

*tires screech*

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking … and if you didn’t think it someone somewhere else did. The thought is something along the lines of, “what about morning breath?” or “that’s nasty.” If you’re such a person … forgive me for laughing at you, but I find it and you funny. I watch TV sometimes … and laugh at sitcoms when I see a couple kiss each other good morning while covering their mouths. Maybe it’s a movie and one person rushes to the bathroom to quickly brush their teeth.

Here is a person who gave their life to another (be it momentary or not) but isn’t willing to give up their convictions or biases. They unknowingly are essentially saying that their biases are worth more than their own life … if they are willing to give themselves to another … but not … their mind. That to me is ironic and funny. What’s sad is, this isn’t just on TV … this isn’t just some fuckin parody. So many people make statements about bad breath. It’s a shame that they don’t even realize what they are doing at that moment. Then when it is lost, they wonder where the passion went.

Oblivious to their actions.

How is it possible … that so many people wonder the same thing, and close to no one have a clue? You’d think that someone somewhere would figure it out … and tell someone about it … right? Is it just that they are too busy perpetuating their own insanity to listen to reason? Are they too busy reacting to listen? Or are they simply too busy putting the blame on the other person? Often due to arrogance, conceit, and / or insecurity … people put the blame on the other person. For many it’s easier to do that than to accept the part they played. Ironically, if the passion previously existed … then it was lost within one’s own convictions.

You can find it there if you look for it.

Something as simple as a bias towards morning breath goes a long way. After all, isn’t the person who’s concerned about morning breath … prior to the moment … more concerned about their breath … than the moment? Although some might deny it … there isn’t much to, for this isn’t rocket science. One’s passion is defined through and in their ability to let go. The passion is lost, the moment one’s biases overcome their heart … when the mind gets in the way of their desire. If there isn’t enough passion … then the person isn’t letting go enough.

To demonstrate …

imagine two painters standing side by side. They are each facing their own blank canvas. A buzzer sounds, signifying that they should begin. The person on the right picks up their brush and begins to meticulously paint a picture. The person on the left … dips their brush into a pool of paint, and wildly flings their arm … allowing the splatters and drips to hit the canvas. Allow that scene to marinate, and then ask yourself “who’s more passionate? The painter who controls … or the one who lets go?”

Some would debate, that the person who’s being meticulous is putting more effort into the painting. Thus they are more passionate about their painting, for they are … putting more … heart / care into it. That would be a bullshit argument, used by the minds that have no clue what the heart is. It’s not that they’re putting more “heart” into the painting … they are putting more “thought” into the painting. For when one puts more heart into something they … “feel” … their way through it. The previous argument has seemingly become a social fallacy … if they could only perceive the subtle difference.

The level of desire in a person with strong convictions is marked and followed by a phrase similar to … “fuck it.” The moment it’s honestly said … be it mentally, verbally, or written … they cut loose. If they aren’t willing to cut loose, then they do not desire it as much as they’d like to believe (that is unless they believe they don’t desire it enough to truly do it). Though, I divest … because even if you are such a person and are following this, or even feeling what I’m saying … it doesn’t mean you can get over the smell, nor taste. After all, it is right there and in your face … or I should say … in front of your nose. So … let’s take it there.

The taste of funk.

As previously stated, when it comes to bodily secretions or excretions it tastes “exactly how it smells.” Thus, if it smells like shit … it’ll taste like shit. Not that I know what shit tastes like. Fine … better yet, if it smells like musty underarms then it’ll taste like musty underarms. Oddly enough, I do know what that tastes like … and although I know this isn’t helping your imagination much … there is some sense lost within this madness. However, this only occurs with potent smells … as the scent overpowers our taste buds. Conversely, perfume on the neck, will not translate into the skin on their arm tasting like perfume.

Speaking of taste buds … our taste buds can only perceive bitter, salty, sour, and sweet flavors. It’s the odor which comprises seventy to seventy-five percent of our perception of taste. The key word being “perception” for it’s all in our minds, and relative to what or how we think. Humans are dependant upon their sense of smell to function normally. We’re actually more dependant on smell than we are visually dependant. When we have a cold, the taste of food is lost if the odor molecules can’t reach their destination.

In fact, who we are involved with is determined primarily by their smell.

Animals often use colors to attract visually, but it’s the scent which either seals the deal or makes the initial acknowledgement. Without it, who we are visually attracted to won’t do anything for us … we’ll just deal with them for conscious reasons. Couples can acknowledge each other merely by the smell of familiarity … and when we are afraid romantically, we seek refuge in the scent of comfort. I read somewhere once that we can differentiate between almost 10,000 unique odors.

So how is it … that for some people, many things taste like chicken?

It’s because the person wants it to taste chicken. There are similar odors in different types of meat, and due to preference their mind singles out that familiar odor while ignoring the rest. This is purely a psychological action. I mean, physically we received all of the varying odor molecules, and they all did reach the respective receptors. Thus, it’s only logical what caused the lost of perception. I mean, have you ever heard someone say it tastes like chicken, but it didn’t taste like chicken to you … or someone else? Well, I have, and to me the only thing which tastes like chicken … is chicken.

However, I for one know that I have issues when it comes to smell, and taste. For I know people who have a sense of smell so acute that they can differentiate between various ingredients. They can dissect a dish as they eat, “I taste a bit of cumin, and is that celery salt?” When I eat, the only thing I taste is … “tastes good” … “tastes okay” … “tastes bad” … and although I cannot tell what flavors I taste, I oddly enough can tell what should be added … or what’s missing. However, all of it is just learned behavior … the more scents you pay attention to the easier it becomes to tell the difference between the way they taste.

Wine connoisseurs smell the wine before they taste it. They allow the aroma to aerate within the tilted swirling glass, and take a deep breath. The reason for this … is because once you separate the scents in your mind, you appreciate the flavor more … because you can taste what you smelled better. If you just drank it, you might not notice the varying flavors.

Thus, the famous thought extended to Neo when he left the matrix, “You take chicken, for example: Maybe they couldn’t figure out what to make chicken taste like, which is why chicken tastes like everything!” — First, chicken doesn’t taste like everything, everything tastes like chicken. That original statement means chicken tastes like numerous things, but that’s a moot point. –  The reason is because you have issues … or more directly, “it’s because you’re inexperienced.” This naivety has some strong implications when it comes to those who worry about their breath before the moment.

Their sense of smell cannot be overcome because they cannot smell anything else … due to their lack of scent classifications. Subsequently, a person who has been physically intimate (this does not necessarily mean sexually) with more people, is more prone to get over the smell than the one who hasn’t. Perceive the child who didn’t receive enough affection.

They are quite literally immature.

So yes, if you say “ill, the smell” or something to that effect you’re immature on many levels. Thus, at that moment you cannot overcome your own immaturity. However, even the most immature person will overcome themselves when put into a situation where their desire is stronger than their convictions. Yet, this is a key indicator to finding where the passion went. A cat will only have an involuntary reaction to catnip for but so long. After awhile, when the cat’s smell receptors become acclimated to the nepetalactone (the chemical found in catnip, which causes their reaction) … they cease to react to it. Additionally, some cats don’t react to catnip at all, and some never get used to it because their brains can’t adapt.

Similarly, one’s reaction to the scent of another becomes lessened to be replaced by “comfort.” Even if in our minds we have insecurities, the comfort is evident. We become physically comfortable with the person. Which is why in turn, when our minds are no longer being dulled by desire … our convictions then take over. Which ironically then creates an even greater mental discomfort … which then creates complaints. So to clarify what I stated previously … there’s actually two types of people who worry about bad breath. The one who’s just plain immature, and the one who when comfortable they allow their convictions to take the front seat. Regardless, with both individuals it’s still an issue due to convictions. In one case, the person has too little and in the latter the person just has too many.

It doesn’t have to be that way.

Have you ever actually kissed a person with morning breath? Actually that question serves no purpose, for the person who kisses with morning breath usually desires that person enough to do so … and consequently although they “may” notice it, they may often do not. So more simply … “have you ever kissed a person with bad breath?” Well, I have. An ex of mine literally had halitosis, and I kissed her all the time. What can I say? I mean … I’m an affectionate person that loves to kiss … so … sue me, lol. The ironic thing about it though, is that this happened during an “immature” period of my life … aka … while I was still in high school.

I’m almost 27 now, and bad breath doesn’t bother me anymore. However, I must say … those of you who are afraid of trying it … you have reason to be. It’s not a pleasant taste. It’s like eating a type of moldy cheese for the first time. The shit tastes nasty until you become accustomed to eating that variety. I mean, I probably would never eat those cheeses … but the parallel suits nonetheless. However, it’s through these experiences where I learned something potent. A kiss does have a taste, and it’s not the taste we smell. If you’ve been following up until now … you might be thinking, “wtf, didn’t he say taste is dependant upon smell?”

Controversially, the true taste of a kiss actually defies all known logic and reason (or at least, all of my known understanding). Similar to the way that love tends to defy our logic. Granted maybe that is merely due to me being inexperienced at noticing it. Maybe it’s due to the fact that this particular connection wasn’t present. However, I don’t believe that last possibility is very accurate. I say that because, popular culture has popularized this phenomenon in various ways. I think that it’s more possible … that I didn’t allow myself to be truly be lost within a kiss, until I kissed the woman I truly love.

And it tastes like a spark.

To some of yall, that might sound a bit crazy … for how does a spark have a taste? The closest thing I can akin it to is putting a nine volt battery on your tongue. However, it doesn’t have the extreme battery taste … nor does it pack a punch that much (it however does pack a punch). As I said this is popularized by our culture through commercials for such products like Certs breath mints. Remember those commercials? “I hear if you bite into a Certs in the dark, it makes a spark.” Somewhere along the line, that turned into kissing with the Certs in the mouth … which was also adapted to oral sex with a Mint. Sadly, when I was younger … I tried that often. Threw the Certs into the mouth … cut off the light … proceeded to make out. While I paid more attention to the Certs instead of her … lmfao … needless to say, it never worked. I now know it’s a fact that Certs do indeed spark, but only when you bite them.

So anyway, this leads me to wonder. Exactly how much do we allow our minds to get in the way? So much that one cannot allow themselves to be lost in a moment … to be lost within or truly appreciate a kiss. It doesn’t matter if the person’s breath stinks like rotten celery, cigarettes, or morning breath … it doesn’t matter if it tastes like chicken … because they just ate. For once you kiss said person, your breath ends up tasting the same … so in other words you stop tasting it. The passion lost, is found within one’s own convictions … one can uncover it, if they let go of those things. It is in these moments when the superficial is overcome … that we begin to realize, experience, and be overwhelmed by truth.

The true taste of a kiss … is found within being lost in desire.

Do you desire enough, to overcome yourself …

do you … love enough to overcome yourself?

Maybe you should allow yourself to love enough … and overcome the fear …

and kiss … like your lips … weren’t meant to part.

Turning that moment … into art.

*flings paint onto the page, signing his name*

- Prasand J.