The first profound effect porn had on my life was to completely disabuse me of the notion that God exists.

I used to be a profound and fervent believer. The kind of young kid who lived by such a strict moral code that it would annoy those around me. My devotion burned as brightly as it burned unwaveringly.

And then I found – you guessed it – a stash of porn in the house. This was the beginning of the end.

You can imagine the effect oogles of stories and pictures of naked women engaged in salacious acts would have on a young person of 15 tender years (I remember in particular stacks of Penthouse and this booklet sized magazine, the name of which I can’t remember). They soon took over my world, and I would go nuts waiting for an opportunity to look myself away in a room with the stash, free from prying eyes.

My mind does not easily admit contradiction – and I try very hard to live consistently. The looming battle between religion’s strict code and sweaty, heaving tits came soon and it came hard (pardon the pun).

The tits won.

It was not a swift battle, but it was decisive. I started by plunging into prayer and going through religious tomes, trying to find words of justification and comfort – words that would wean me away from my sinful addiction.

I did not find them. Try as I might, I could not find anything convincing that would tear me away from my new passion.

This was to mark the beginning of a slippery slope. The same slope soon enveloped the concept of organised religion, and the very existence of God.

I questioned previously unchallenged assumptions, and the answers I was forced to admit marked one of the more significant departures of my adult life.

Before long, there was nary a soldier of God left on the battlefield of my tired mind. Just Amazons, Valkryies and sexy atheists.

Atheism has also had a profound effect on my life, but it is Porn Week here at LoyarBurok, not God Week. Let’s fast forward to the other profound effect porn has had.

Even the worst blow job…
I think part of my life can be summed up by the simple phrase, “Nothing is better than sex.” I’m reminded of a line from Palahniuk’s Choke: “even the worst blow job is better than, say, sniffing the best rose . . . watching the greatest sunset. Hearing children laugh.” (I suppose it’s debatable whether that’s technically true. I imagine a bad blowjob can be… pretty bad).

Another key feature of my personality is that I seem to find separating fantasy and reality a little bit difficult sometimes.

I invite you to look beyond the more obvious interpretation of that admission, and think of the manner in which John Locke liked to shout to the world: “Don’t tell me what I can’t do!”

Little known Lost porn poster
Cover of little known Lost gay porno movie

While many seem to be content to think that there are certain experiences they will never have, or lifestyles that will never be theirs, I seem to be a little bit more reluctant to let some dreams go.

There are two possible meanings to this: firstly, that I am a loser who refuses to let go of unrealistic, childish dreams that are impossible to achieve; secondly, that I am the type of person who dreams big dreams, dreams without which great things are impossible to achieve.

Of course, the “greatness” of wanting to live the life of a character in a porn movie is extremely suspect.

Holding out for a lifestyle that involves copious amounts of sex with various people obviously keeps an individual of my years from settling down and building a family the way most readers of this article have probably been expected to do so most of their lives.

It is also likely responsible for my considerable loneliness and apparent inability to form healthy relationships.

Is this really all due to porn? Am I insane in my reluctance to let go?

I haven’t the faintest idea, and suppose only time will tell. In the meantime, I will endeavour to share with you my considerable experience and enjoyment of the genre – every day of the week, and twice on Sundays (ed: due to timing changes, Sundays are now Mondays. Suck it.)

Boz Kamara is a pseudonym, used partly to protect friends, family and loved ones. Boz is a purveyor of extreme physical pleasure and devotee of unbridled depravity. Into girls. Someone who let soulmate slip away, and every day wonders if it was biggest mistake ever. Boz can be reached for fun and questions at [email protected] and has recently started tweeting @BozKamara.

2 replies on “[Porn Week] How Porn Ruined/Made My Life”

  1. i wonder whether people like Tiger, Strauss-Kahn or that Swatzerwatever-guy do porn.

Comments are closed.