The Real World

“I’m not going to like going back to the real world after this.”

I’ve heard this many times at the end of events, or vacations, or even just good dates. Have you? Recently it’s given me some pause. What is this “real world” of which we speak?

from Flickr Creative Commons PoolMaybe it’s the world where we earn our daily bread, take out the garbage, do the dishes, fold the laundry. It’s the world of the “mainstream” (another fine misleading word) that apparently can’t accept that on some weekends we like to wear latex clothing. We like to beat on people with canes before fucking them in the ass. We like to be tied up and flogged and then forced to gag on a cock until we beg. We like to dress up in tiger’s clothing and stick needles into breasts and then lap up the blood. Y’know, like ya do.

But if that’s what we like, and the “real world” can’t handle it…how real can it be? Isn’t it, instead, the fake world, that is so narrow in vision that it can’t encompass the whole of reality? (nice pun there, btw, feel free to use it).

One thing I believe: we create our own realities. We can always make choices; we just have to be willing to accept the consequences. Aye, there’s the rub; for what consequences may come when we have shuffled off these fake worlds must give us pause. That’s why we don’t wear the leather chaps that feel right to teach the pre-school kids; it’s why we just smile and say “oh, I hung out with some friends from out of town” when our mothers ask what we did last weekend, all the while rubbing our rope bruises under our “normal” clothes. Because, quite reasonably, we believe there are consequences that will happen that outweigh the benefits of being able to actually live in the real world.

So we choose to shape our reality. I used to believe otherwise; I believed that I was forced into choices by circumstances. Now, however, I believe that I chose, every step of the way – though sometimes that choice was not so much about the circumstances as the choice to be who I am, and not what people expect me to be. It’s created a pretty interesting world, actually, but it’s no more real than any other.

What kind of reality have your choices created? And how do you feel about that?

Perhaps more importantly: what are you going to do about that?

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