ISMAIL
Biography
I
come from the land where different cultures and civilizations have been
amalgamated and maybe that’s why I welcome a wide variety of thoughts now.
However, nobody in my country knows what macrophilia is. It is the ancient
victory of superego that is dominant, and the unlucky minority who comes to
think about their “difference” has to silence themselves in order to survive. I
am not much different from that minority… but I’m not unlucky.
We always seek our roots and try the find the origin cause, but I don’t know how and when macrophilia really began to make me feel it. I suppose it was when I started to talk and created my own self that macrophilia just came together with it. It was at first a feeling of joy in my very early childhood but then I realized nobody felt like me. So the joy left its place to embarrassment. Nevertheless, I had my own secret little ways to develop macrophilia. While playing with my friends in my room, I used to lie down and lower my eye-level to the height of little toys and seemed to be busy playing my own ones but always observed the motions of my friend’s hands that were on my toys. Thus, hands became a sort of mystery to look at and formed much of my later macrophile life. There are many sweet childhood memories to tell and the power of imagination was something new for me but the troubling times were like the gray clouds that ended the reign of the sunny day.
My early adolescence and teenage years were somehow problematic and instead of the golden age of childhood, I entered a chaotic era and learned to repress and forget my initial desires. Yet, was it possible to do so? The days were ordinary and filled with daily duties, I was unaware that I waited for the night, where I was alone with myself in my bed, and I couldn’t resist dreaming and dreaming and going to sleep and continued dreaming… The dreams were wrong to me then, they were simply odd. What is more they weren’t like the innocent ones in the past, new themes entered my mind every night and the result was finding myself in a shrinking story. Every night a shrinking adventure, surely more than the tales of 1001 nights… In the day, I was a silent and hardworking “good child”, in the night I was lost in my imagination. I really thought I had some kind of illness and in the end I would go insane because I really didn’t know the name of this feeling.
The troubles ended in my university years. I met the most genius man I’d ever seen (and will ever see). I was studying at American Cultural Studies department and this man used to give us his lectures a lot. He talked about human psychology, the need, the desire, the drive. Every lecture I found another theme that was in my personality. I couldn’t thank him due to hiding my feelings, yet he helped me get to know myself better. I was hungry for this knowledge, and internet was the sole source. I nearly saw all the macrophile sites from the clean to the dirtiest and most pervert ones because I was shocked to see the similarities between the images there and the images in my mind. I have learned a lot, and am still learning.
My gallery (that jumble of files!) includes some uploads that are the works of others or the youtube files, I haven’t created my own works yet, but I am ambitious to create, and there is still the road of an artist ahead of me. Macrophilia has two sides for me. One is the enjoyment I get from it that can be the temporary satisfaction of the self. The other is the deep sorrow I have, no matter how much I try to ignore, it will still be there. It is something experienced alone, and in the eyes of the others you will be considered “pervert”. Well, let them think so, my unique weapon is the power I derive from my imagination.
See the gallery, have fun!