Metaphor: How one condom, one act of lovemaking leaves several shards behind, the wrapper torn in two or three, the actual rubber itself, and the act. The problem doesn't lie with the idea of safe sex, but rather the idea of the idea, the entombment of the act in thought, in that metaphor, and the wrapping of the thought in the physical object. It's perhaps contradictory that one thing can be thought of as an act, and the other as a thought or physical being in itself: Sex is an act, but when looked upon by a certain type it loses it's allure, by being looked upon... it becomes an object. Then the objectified act ceases to be arousing to one party, yet becomes the fetish of another, plasticized festivities, all the more arousing for how cheap and fake the dollar store maracas and hats are. This creates an interesting dilemma, in certain individuals: The romantic intellectual is aroused and initiates an act of love, but during the act he finds himself thinking about it, something he is excited by, but not aroused by... but by intellectualizing the act he is distancing himself from it, cheapening it, something he is disgusted by, something he reviles. So these three states intermingle and coalesce, arousal, intellectual distance, and disgust. However, the second two are separate, because they are aware of each other and the first, only the first thinks itself pure, because it doesn't care, and even, isn't aware of the other two, the third of which is distant, fake, a creation of a wandering and tertiary mind.