The Urge

The Urge

Do you know what I mean? When you get it, you get it really bad. Everything about it is so wrong but you want it so bad…

You want to touch the DO NOT TOUCH items at the museum.

I was watching Tv the other day and there is a film about Pompeii coming out. It reminded me of when the British Museum had an exhibition of some of the bodies and artifacts recovered from the city. I know it sounds sick but we had to leave because I wanted to touch some of the remains. The urge was redonk. It happens every time I go to a museum and my last boyfriend was somewhat of an enabler. He would keep a look out so that I could just run my finger along the forbidden fruit.

The best thing I have ever managed to touch was one of the bodies at Gunter Von Hagen’s ‘Body Worlds’. It is super sick to think that I am touching human remains and I don’t get some kind of sexual thrill from it. But it is just because I am NOT allowed. If the security guard said “Touch what you want” I wouldn’t be bothered in any way and I’d just look. Instead “Don’t touch” and “No photography” is like a challenge.

I am sure I will grow out of it at some point but then again as an old lady I may get away with it more.


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