Sensual Philosophy …

I had an interesting dream just now. For some, this may be unsettling or even disturbing. However, give it a chance. As my dreams usually go, it was primarily in third person but switches between points of view. Though unlike previous depictions I will not reflect those switches much. This entry is not about passion, but perception.

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The Setting:

I was living in Japan again. Finally moved back there to complete my training, as I’ve said I would like to. My apartment, an elongated five tatami room with what appeared to be newspapers, magazines and other haibutsu overflowing it. There was only enough room around the kotatsu for me to do my pushups, and situps. Definitely not enough to practice advanced kata.

The room was rectangular, with the doorway opening off center … mostly to the left. The larger part of the room was to the right as you walk in, with the kotatsu sitting in the middle. A small circular fluorescent light above the kotatsu barely illuminates the room. To the left (opposite of the kotatsu) was the terebi propped up by magazines. To the right (behind the kotatsu) was a small sink and full-sized refrigerator to the left of the sink. It was a dingy white, slightly rounded, a heavy metal antiquated machine. The rice cooker sat on the counter between the sink and refrigerator. The floors outside of the apartment were also tatami.

The Dream:

A woman approaches my door. I do not remember what she looked like; only that she was beautiful and I know her. For me, faces and identity tend to be lost in prophetic dreams like this. She’s wearing business attire. A dark grey tailored knee-length skirt with a slit in the back, skin-toned stockings, a light blue button down shirt with three-quarter length sleeves and unbuttoned cuffs flipped up once. Her shirt unbuttoned at the top, exposing her neckline and cleavage. Her hair is in a frayed bun held up by a chopstick. She kneels in front of the door, knocks, and waits for awhile before entering without a response.

She slowly slides the solid door open, and she sees me sleeping on the bare tatami floor, facing the left in a slightly fetal position with my feet towards her, wearing a white t-shirt and light grey shorts. She steps around me, around the kotatsu, and goes to the sink. She fills a kettle with water, and places it on the hotplate. Then she goes and kneels in front of me, bends down and kisses me to awaken me from my slumber. I wake up and find myself laying with a naked woman, on the bare floor, covered only by a sheet.

WTF!?!?

I mentally replayed what happened before I passed out. I was working out strenuously, training so hard that beads of sweat collected on my skin. Tired, I came back to my room shirtless … and did a few backwards handstand pushups. I then literally hit the floor from exhaustion, and passed out. I didn’t remember anything which happened in between, almost as if I was running on auto-pilot or something. My movement provokes her awakening. Propped up by her right hand, the side of her right breast can be seen between her arm and side from behind. She looks over her right shoulder at me and says, “Oh, you’re finally up.”

My jaw hits the ground, thinking “OMG!! Her!?!? When?? How?? WTF!??” She says, “You know, you take grouchiness to a whole new level” … and proceeds, “I knew you weren’t awake the moment I saw how you reacted.” “How did I react?” “You responded in kind by aggressively grabbed my waistline, pulling me against you, and deeply kissed me while I was still in shock.” “…” “There was too much testosterone in your actions. Not your usual courteousness, completely voracious.”

Calmly I say with my eyes closed, “My caring and concern is primarily conscious. So when I first wake up, if I’m still sleeping my considerations and filters do not exist. So I usually tell people to be careful interacting with me in those moments, that the person they know and the person they are interacting with are two totally different people. In that moment I wake up, I will not care about one’s feelings, what they think, their insecurities, defenses, nor weaknesses and probably will hurt their feelings. I will only care about the person I was holding as I slept.” (the previous was a true story)

She said, “I liked it.”

She proceeded, “Normally, you’re so concerned with other’s interpretations and so excessively considerate in non-typical ways that I doubt you’re ever truly yourself. Your thoughts, and feelings are always conveyed with extreme honesty but you never truly express.” “?” “I mean, you’re so occupied with stating what or how you think and feel, but don’t actually express those things. For example, you say you’re mad but rarely ever actually express that anger. Only a few people can get you mad enough that you actually yell. However, all of those lesser times are all bottled in. It’s one thing to be a happy person that never gets mad, and to be a person that gets angry but never expresses it.”

“I release those in other ways.”

“Yeah, you let go of the anger or vent your frustrations through your training, and meditation … but it only partially helps. You end up with an overwhelming amount of passion, without anger, or sadness and therefore no typical way to release it. Which builds up until you flatline, and can no longer feel anyone’s passion or warmth, because you literally cannot take anymore. You merely appease your brain by speaking it, or resolving not to.” “Interesting, never looked at it that way.”

“Training, fighting, and relaxing only appease and release a few types of energy. There is another which can only be released by mutual exchange.” “So in other words, sex”, lol. “You know what I mean.” “Of course, interaction is interaction and regardless of how one interacts with another they are sharing energy … be it sexual or not. It just happens that due to social psychosis ’sex’ is the time we release, exchange, or share the most mutual energy. However, one without taboo, less insecurities, or fear can release an equal amount through other means.”

Her, “your release was sexually, and your taboo or fear was sex itself … because of your recent issues with intimacy.”

Me, “Ironic. Waitaminute, why did you come here?”

Her, “I came to talk to you about a project I thought you might be interested in.”

Me, “and essentially got raped.”

Her, “more like devoured”, lol.

Me, “why didn’t you stop me?”

She softly says, “my body wasn’t listening to me.”

As she described what happened, my brain filled in the gaps. Like, how she asked me to stop, but was physically pulling me closer. I relived the dream, inside of the dream … in fragments. Scenes interjected by her words. She said, “and when you ripped off my stockings.” I interrupted, “and you said, ‘just don’t come inside of me.’” Her, “yeah.” “Did I?” “Yes, ten times.” I was amazed by that, because I know that anything over three times usually begins to hurt … so ten times is a bit unfathomable. Though I merely said, “wow”, got up and poured her some tea that was still warming on the plate.

I sat opposite of her, in the small space between the sink and the kotatsu. As she basically crawled to the table naked and physically drained, I remembered her hands and thighs pulling me in deeper when she felt me about to climax. I said, “but you wanted me to.” “Yes, but no. Like I said, my body wasn’t listening to me. I can’t afford to have a child at this moment in my life.” *puzzled expression on his face* “No, I’m not ovulating.” *an internal sigh of relief, but then an expression of slight disappointment* “I don’t have the time to manage a child. So I’d like for you to be considerate and not train so hard while I’m ovulating.”

I think to myself, “What’s this? Is she saying what I think she’s saying?” Still a bit confused, I simply comply, “okay.” “With you, I won’t take birth-control and won’t ever deny you. I’ll bear our child, but understand that at this rate we’ll end up having more children than we can possibly afford.” I laugh and say, “women and their practicality at familial matters.” She laughs and retorts, “men and their inability to think in moments when overcome with passion.” “Touché.” “One’s body needs more rest than their mind, but with you … your training is so taxing on your brain, that when you do it excessively your conscious thoughts shut down. You even purposely do so in your as you call it ‘detox meditation’ technique.”

She pauses, then continues, “I’ll take care of your desires, be them physical or not. So lover, rest easy.” *as she straddles me, and places her arms around my neck (elbows on shoulders) she jokingly adds* “but ten times is a bit much. I felt like I was going to die at around the fifth time. I’m not as strong as you mentally, I don’t think I can keep my sanity experiencing that too often, and I refuse to be your sex vegetable.” Me, “Okay. I’ll meditate on it and instill some sort of preventative from letting that happen ‘too’ often.” Her, “uhuh@too … though for our first time, it was great.” *we laugh, and kiss*

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So now I sincerely ask. What did you see? If you submersed yourself, what did you feel?

- Prasand J.