I remember being in 6th grade and a friend telling me his dad had a collection of “playboy magazines”. At the time,I had no clue what that meant. But I quickly figured it out considering they were located on a huge bookshelf in the playroom that was intended for us to play video games in. There must have been hundreds of magazines on the shelf filled with naked ladies. In fact, the first time I ever witnessed what a naked lady looked like was in a playboy magazine from that shelf. I remember staring at the pages as the pictures, unknowingly to me, burned into my brain like a branding iron to a cow. For years since then, I’ve struggled with these images and the new ones I would soon pour into my brain not realizing it would continue to drip like a poisonous acid to the very center of my being. I’m really sad that Hugh Hefner died. I am really sad that he probably never realized the truth about God. I am also sad that a world that demands for women to be equal and respected also praises the perverted use of a woman’s body for less than it was created for. It’s a controversial topic, but it’s one that hits close to home for me. Sex is supposed to be more magical than Disney world. And instead we accept this cheap, put together in a day and gone tomorrow Ferris wheel that everyone has ridden and puked on. I’m only speaking from experience.
The still recovering 12 year old (going on 32 this year) Michael Carvajal.