Sex in a Stall

This thing we do, or things, in between our first and final breaths is the one true essence of the sacred upon the Earth. There is none more holy than the one who acts to create their world, and no thing of greater beauty than that which arises from the work of their hands. Aspirations achieved and imaginations manifest for the enlightenment and enjoyment of the world.

And all within it.

We do this daily, we create our experiences and share the fruits of our labor with those we love, and those we hate. We create, we choose, we act as we see fit, in each passing moment, in each passing day. The things that happen next are a mixture of our actions and our applied wills, expressed within the limits of our fate, for lack of a better word. The mingling of the things we can control and the things we cannot. 

There is perhaps a ratio that can be held in mind, for planning purposes, or maybe as a reminder of the limited scope of our sphere of influence. Perhaps it is 80:20, where 80% of our experiences can be directly controlled by our imagination, planning, execution, and monitoring of our actions upon the Earth. Perhaps there are 20% of our experiences, or experiential influences that are completely beyond our personal control.

These are not real numbers, and should not be considered hard or fast truths. It is merely a way to look at our experiences, here in this world. A way of approaching the engineering of our lives that recognizes that we have a lot of authority over how things turn out, but there are things we don't know, things we haven't considered, and things we cannot change that affect us in our plans.

We create in our world, and it is beautiful. But we also exist in a world that is being created by others, all the time. Most of them aren't doing much consciously, on purpose, but they still behave in ways that accomplish purposes. The purposes of others who have gotten a few folks to lend them their creativity. Think of a corporation that trades dollars for the temporary use of its employees' powers of creation, and employees who, having no purpose of their own worth pursuing and manifesting, are greatful to get something useful for their time and efforts, for doing something with their time that they wouldn't be doing otherwise.

7 billion creators, creating. Not creating 7 billion worlds, because we sell our time and attention to the highest bidder, and there aren't that many purposeful people on the Earth. A few thousand, maybe, whose purpose and Will is being executed at any given time.

But those purposes don't all impact us personally, all the time. If we are stuck working for others, we have more time to create than the time we sell them. We have evenings, or weekends, and we can tap that time and use it for our own purposes, guide our efforts into activities that create more time for personal creation as more of our plans materialize, if we wish.

And no one has to create, of course. There are the watchers of the television. There are the consumers of goods. The entertained. They are content to watch, to passively experience, to sell their services to a machine whose purposes they have no interest in comprehending, and that too is just fine. Nobody has to do anything they don't want to do, if it's too hard, too boring, or just unappealing to them. There is no shame, no blame, unless they are unhappy. 

And that's punishment enough.

Me, I like to create, to build my next experiences. It's fun. I like the frission, the passion, the building up of the moment, the anticipation of the orgasmic release that brings the pleasure of the experience coming into being. I like the process of creating things to be enjoyed. 

Sure, there are things I can't control. The space is cramped, and the seat is cold, and there are way too many crudely drawn dicks on the wall. People outside might hear me and think badly of me, and the wafting smells of other people's excreta will undoubtedly assail my senses. 

But my experience in the stall is my own, I can do what I want with whoever I can talk into coming with me, and afterwards we can laugh and sigh and get back on the train, carrying that joy with us into what comes next.