habitually probing generalist

Rain falls hard
Burns dry
A dream
Or a song
That hits you so hard
Filling you up
And suddenly gone

Breathe feel love
Give free
Know in your soul
Like your blood knows the way
From your heart to your brain
Knows that you’re whole

And you’re shining
Like the brightest star
A transmission
On the midnight radio
And you’re spinning
Like a 45
Ballerina
Dancing to your rock and roll

Hedwig and the Angry Inch. “Midnight Radio.”

Desire, much like testosterone, is a multi-edged sword. A little of both is required just to get out of bed in the morning. And, yes, you (all genders) need testosterone to desire anything, in any way.

Physical desire, though, is the product of the devil, bless his heart. That would be the devil in any sense that you like, not necessarily religious. My devil’s aren’t the slightest bit Christian, except in imagery.

Why do we have so little control over our physical desire? Why do we desire things we know we can’t have? Why do we desire things physically that we want in no other way? Why can we not explain our desire? Why can’t we shut this part of our selves off? Permanently? Maybe not. Why not in a Sleeping Beauty sort of sense?

Or is it just more complicated because it is what I desire?