Journal: Entry for Clover
I sometimes get the sense from my more urban friends that they think people like me - people who want to live on the edges of mountains away from everything - are ascetics of a sort. We are missing out, they say. Maybe for some higher purpose (they are kind and don't evaluate the reward) but certainly at cost. And I think, but do not say, that I am the better hedonist. Who cares if you can get a skillfully mixed martini in a stylish bar? Who cares if you can rub your skin against another lonely human? The air smells bad in there. It smells like smoke and sweat. You are neglecting one of your senses, and that is shameful for a hedonist.
I embrace them all. I am lying in the grass, which is sweet and new and wet. There is a hint of rain. This is something you would not expect to miss during the rainy season, but the earth must be dry for at least a few hours to give forth that fragrance. Now I remember, and I breathe it in slowly, tasting the air. My small dog rests his head upon my arm, and I smell him too; he is grown but still carries the scent of a baby. Soon he will be two, and it will be strawberry season again. We will eat our fruit with sensual, almost savage, joy.
I embrace them all. I am lying in the grass, which is sweet and new and wet. There is a hint of rain. This is something you would not expect to miss during the rainy season, but the earth must be dry for at least a few hours to give forth that fragrance. Now I remember, and I breathe it in slowly, tasting the air. My small dog rests his head upon my arm, and I smell him too; he is grown but still carries the scent of a baby. Soon he will be two, and it will be strawberry season again. We will eat our fruit with sensual, almost savage, joy.
Re: Pleasure is...
...subjective, right? And this is going to be funny, because today I started writing a short story with this same basic theme (at least as a conversation prop for a pseudo real relationship I have) but yeah, every perception is subjective, and particularly pleasure. Hedonism, really, is just a word that means constrained or subtle addiction. But I do know what you mean. I don't love clubs - and usually only like them when there's a girl involved - and will often wish I were somewhere else. Sometimes it is nice, though, to be surrounded by electric youth, burning our little lives away, and so on. Humans are tribal, and tribes used to dance around fires and play music (how primitive!) and humans now dance around flashing lights and listen to music (how modern!) and there's a benefit, to that, at a psychological level.
I'm with you, Clover
I hate clubs/bars. Too loud, too smelly and too much...much. How can you ENJOY that sort of overload? One of my favorite sensations is when I wear my FiveFingers to the pasture. You feel the earth entirely differently when you're practically barefoot (and with the FiveFingers on, my feet are protected from stray stones and sticks )
I'd much prefer to dance around a fire and play drums. It's not as loud and the crackle of a fire is so much more palatable than most pop music and the puking of sorostitutes.
I'd much prefer to dance around a fire and play drums. It's not as loud and the crackle of a fire is so much more palatable than most pop music and the puking of sorostitutes.
I have nothing to add except my support to Clover and the above comments.
Hedonism and people seem somewhat dichotomous to me. Even when they aren't, stacking them in cramped dozens who must shout to be heard over music blasted through a drunken mating (or at least breeding) frenzy isn't really my scene. If you want booze, take a flask of Beam to sip while you stare up at the stars, and if you want people, take people you already know and like, dance with people with whom physical contact doesn't leave you wondering how far it is to the nearest free clinic. And if they get a little TOO boozey at your place you can always ask them to leave or, if necessary, ask the local constabulary to assist them in so doing. Nine times out of ten though your puppy will be an eminently superior companion; if he pukes, it probably won't be on you, and he'll at least have the courtesy to clean up after himself. More importantly, he won't have shown up just for the remote chance of getting into your bed, and if he manages to get there anyway he won't do much more than snuggle and sleep.
I have to agree with you Clover
A true hedonist doesn't overindulge or do anything that can cause themselves discomfort, because overindulgence and discomfort are the opposite of the supreme true pleasure the hedonist desires.
I, too, prefer the countryside to cities. That's why I'm going to the university I'm in, and not one of the bigger ones my friends mainly went to.
I, too, prefer the countryside to cities. That's why I'm going to the university I'm in, and not one of the bigger ones my friends mainly went to.