WARNING! This blog is
about the physical act of love.
It’s not
a rude one exploring the (very few) notches on my bed post.
It’s not seedy and is intended to be funny and amuse.
If you don’t want to read about this, you have been warned.
As a modern homosexual man, I don’t like to judge the
heterosexual orthodoxy. Their ways are
alien and confusing to me. Truth be
told, the whole mystery of relationships, intimacy and romance have always been
a bit confusing to me.
One thing I really do believe in, not only in physical
relationships, is the importance of intimacy and privacy. One of the reason’s I’ve never liked to go
anywhere with my exes is because I was terrified people would see me with them…
So many reasons for that bundle of shame and such little time; it will probably
be the content of my memoirs. Beyond
that, the time you spend cuddled up alone together, watching a film and hugging
are the intimate moments that lead to grander physical intimacy. To me, that should be kept between the two
people concerned, behind closed doors… and… closed windows.
Not everyone who strays on to this blog will be in the UK,
so its summer here. Far too hot for me,
but I think I’m meant for colder climates.
I haven’t shut my bedroom window in weeks due to the heat. I get quite frustrated at my neighbours when
I’m trying to sleep – it’s always the way that when you need people to be at
their quietest, they’re always at their loudest. Sod’s Law 101. This particular occasion (last Saturday in
fact), I didn’t need the world to be too quiet.
I didn’t need to be up too early - The more pressure there is to get up,
the harder I find it to get to sleep so I always welcome knowing I don’t need to get up and go on a weekend. I was outside in my yard, with a cup of
camomile tea in hand, basking in the quiet starlight and staring at the
moon. My phone was playing me music from
my pocket and I felt incredibly at peace.
That was when I noticed it.
The it. The “it” of why windows
ought to be kept as closed as doors.
Moaning. The worst kind of
moaning – lady porn star, incredibly loud and obnoxious moaning. I hear them talking through the walls often
and know for a fact that English is not their native tongue so why is “Oh God”
and “F*ck yeah” the same, or is inappropriately-loud-fornication-vocabulary a
universal language?
I like to think of myself as a grown up. I fail myself often in this regard. I don’t know what exactly it was about this
event and hearing these people going hell for leather at their mattress springs
that set me off… but… for shame… I started to giggle. Was it the moaning? Was it the universal language of love? Was it the dog that began to bark into the
night? I really don’t know. But it tickled me.
The following event turned a giggle to full laughter. Across the yard, I saw a light come on in a neighbour’s
bedroom, the curtains flew open and, once again, I saw another open bedroom window. This time, one singular and incredibly loud
declaration was made to the neighbourhood:
“Where the f*uck is that racket coming from?!” They carried on regardless and so amused, I
had to come back inside to fully laugh.
I set the kettle to boil again and began to think in my new
found quiet. My conclusions ran as
follows:
1. Call
me old fashioned, but if you want to make that much noise in a dense population
zone, use a pillow as a muffler to control the sound. At a cabin in the woods, make as much noise
as pleases you, just so long as the rest of the world doesn’t have to hear you.
2. God
doesn’t care. Shut up.
3. I
know it’s hot outside. I know it’s
uncomfortable. But please, consider
those of your neighbours who have ears and keep the windows shut. We’re
uncomfortable enough without having to squirm because of what we can hear.
Maybe I’m a bit more of a prude than I like to think – I
have a terribly crude mind and enjoy the squalor my mind dabbles in. I don’t like being forced into voyeurism because
some people in my local vicinity cannot keep their fake orgasms to
themselves. For all you happy couples
making the beast with two backs, I plead you – No, I’ll beg! – please, just
keep the windows shut until you’re done?
Thank you, on behalf of all the single and sexy-time-less
people in the world (also, the lady across the way who was joined in my
dismay).
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