It was then that I swore to break free from the chains of the eternal cycle I’ve bound myself to. For the better part of six years, I’ve been at odds with a crippling addiction to Japanese adult videos. I’ve since lost count of how many times I slipped into a manic state and proceeded to delete dozens of gigabytes of MP4’s, only to build the collection back up in a single, impassioned, night. But over the past year I’ve relapsed a handful of times, far too many for my liking, and I felt as if I had to draw my line in the sand somewhere; between ideals and lust, in order to finally cleanse myself from the dregs of yesteryear’s yellow fever.
Acknowledging the existence of one’s vice is the prelude to the journey of self-betterment. And for me, it’s becoming painfully clear how detrimental my addiction to Japanese adult videos had become. This relationship has been an endless waltz, in which I seem to only be able to change partners momentarily, before once again finding myself staring back into the eyes of my first partner, not too long after.
Throughout the years, I have seen things that were not very pleasant, and have come to understand where my morals and ideals lie. And now it seems like the ever-present elephant in the room has ousted me as a lying phony. I’ve renounced my JAV addiction too many times to count despite having been critical of it for too many years now, however, I’m ready to finally put money where my mouth is and give it up, once and for all.
I found JAV back in high school, but didn’t really start watching it until I was in university. I was a bigger porn addict back in high school compared to any other time. And in a sense, shifting my preferences to JAV and doujinshi resulted in me easily giving up watching western porn, which was for the better.
However, the thing with JAV is that it’s relatively laborious to find it normally and usually requires some sleuthing to acquire exactly what you want. Amusingly, despite the difficulties involved finding and downloading the videos I wanted, I still gleefully jumped through all those hoops to get the promised reward on the other end. Because for 18 year old Parz, who had too much time on his hands, this was a nonissue; the joy was in the hunt.
The time when I discovered JAV also coincides with the tail-end of a crippling yellow-fever phase of mine, characterized by my year-long frenzy trapped within the idol otaku scene. I listened exclusively to Japanese idol music for a long time after getting really, really, into iDOLM@STER, and this eventually branched off into other avenues such as finding out about seiyuu and non-2D idols. I was a big fan of Nogizaka46 and would spend hours watching their MV’s and variety shows, and was an avid fan of Nishino Nanase. I would pour over all of her photo books, which I’m only now able to admit was unhealthy in retrospect. So the reason I was in a frenzied yellow-fever-induced state when I found JAV was because of my extreme fondness for Japanese idols. This was the point of no return.
I distinctly remember the first time I got really into JAV, almost fondly, There used to be a subreddit that aggregated links to Mega.nz, and I filled up my pitiful 300gb laptop hard drive with lots of JAV. It was like a kid in a candy store at first… But this period slowly came to an end after Nanase graduated and not soon after I gained a bit of clarity about my obsessions. Frist, I learned the horrors of the idol industry in Asia. Then I realized the truth about 2.5D.
Here, I slowly became sober to the fact that this was no better than the western porn videos I had proudly renounced previously. In spite of this, I have returned to JAV nevertheless, but with a dwindling frequency soon after, only really returning to watch the updated catalogues of the prolific actresses that tickled my fancy. Most of the time was spent sifting through the endless stream of videos I could not care less about.
But at the precipice of Leaving-it-All-Behind, I would rediscover JAV in an all-too-familiar delirious state, and would once again make me swallow my pride, set me back 200GB, and lose a few days worth of productivity. I never was able to quit for longer than 6 months, consequently never being able to fully escape my endless entanglement with JAV.
But eventually the storm cleared; It always did.
This was a symbolic addiction, more about what JAV represented than what it actually gave me. Giving a crazed horny teenager suffering from yellow-fever some JAV was my trip to a beautifully twisted wonderland where everything I needed could come into fruition. It was exactly what I wanted in a time where that was almost all I cared about. Because JAV is not actually that good.
I would always skip the exposition and only watch the “good stuff.” I can appreciate the dedication of these actors by committing to their parts and essentially filming a 2+ hour movie, but I didn’t care enough to waste that much time on a single session.
Furthermore, the amount of JAV I actually enjoy is hardly enough to consider myself a fan of the AV industry as a whole. One of the common cited criticisms of Japanese pornography is how the women sound like they’re crying, and the manner in which they’re often portrayed. I distinctly remember this one time, I was watching this video and the camera slowly panned over to the actress as she was being nailed from behind whilst wearing a race queen outfit. But what caught my attention was her eyes. There was nothing in them and I felt like I was doing something wrong, and immediately came down from the high I was riding.
I still can’t forget those blurry eyes...
It’s difficult to explain the dissonance I feel. It’s almost non-issue when I see more extreme fetishes being explored and either party being exploited within the doujinshi and hentai I enjoy, i. But they almost made me uneasy when watching JAV. I empathize too much. I’m obviously not a champion of feminism or anything, but I am not fond of the depiction of women within these videos. Perhaps that’s why I found myself really only really returning to watch Eimi’s videos, since she was often in the role of a woman with agency. But for the rest, it was hard to ignore the borderline rape-y feel of the scenarios of these videos. Because for me, I felt responsible for the hardships of these actors if I got excited watching them perform roles they might be better off not doing.
Regarding the actresses themselves, I apparently have very specific preferences that are hard to please when it comes to how I want the woman to look. But JAV has no easily sortable tagging system of my favorite booru sites. Expecting inhuman perfection with the Read is even too crude for me. So in the 6 years I’ve been watching this stuff, I can count the number of actresses I’ve come to enjoy on one hand with fingers to spare. So by all accounts, it appears as if JAV is something I wasn’t always completely onboard with, so why keep watching? And why is JAV the biggest problem in the universe?
I reject reality, try to convince myself that escapism and my no’nai ren’ai are real, in order to help me live on. It’s a lifestyle that only allows 2D to enter and is a place of tranquility-- a place for eternal sunshine to color the flowering fields with a nostalgic tinge, devoid of the imperfections that reality is all-too willing to revere. Imperfection is not an excuse to bask within the light of complacency. But the journey to this 2D paradise was hindered by my monkey brain fighting me every step of the way. My JAV addiction wasn’t simply a common porn addiction, it was representative of my subconscious battle to decide if I really was unwilling to let everything go.
Every few months my doujinshi reading sessions would be interrupted by my monkey brain desperately trying to course correct, and thus began another “Parz Downloads lots of JAV” episode. This wasn’t simply a personal battle trying to deny a healthy human instinct, it was about suppressing the source of the black surge-- that which jeopardized my ideas. What had originally been a crutch to help me move past western 3D porn had suddenly become my most obvious fallacy.
My ideals, which outlined a beautiful world within the otaku fantasies of one’s mind, had now been tained. Thus, I concluded that my ideals were more important than a quick rush.
In much the same way Madarame had hid pictures of Saki behind his desk, I had hid JAV within the file structure of my PC. But where he and I will deviate, is my desire to never go back. Because nothing is waiting for me there.
This is not about me criticizing JAV with sweeping generalizations, neither is this about porn addiction, rather, it’s about something beyond that.
I’ve researched Honda Toru and consider him to be someone I idolize, however, there is one major point of contention which I can’t ignore; Honda’s advocacy of this so-called “2.5D” as a median dimension. He described 2.5D as the place where 2D and 3D meet, for example in maid cafes and idols, and I believe he was the one who coined the term. This was intended to serve as a place of mutual understanding for otaku and riajuu to meet, and begin the movement to make the appeal of 2D more tangible for non-believers. But I found this to be very problematic.
My 6 year saga battling instinctual urges in order to uphold my ideals had all been building to one final climax, that is, 2.5D is a hindrance to evolution.
When I was new to all this otaku stuff, I thought maid cafes were the best thing ever, but as time has gone by I’ve grown increasingly resentful towards them. The veil of these fantasies was quickly torn off as I slowly realized how the Real was intruding upon my pure fantasies. The maid persona was just a mask. They were trying so hard to be like my Japanese animes for a paycheck, and tricked my pure, pure heart. It was nothing more than a pale imitation of my twisted desires. Projecting 2D desires onto a 3D subject sacrifices the integrity of either dimension. I grew conflicted as the seiyuu and singing idols I had once worshipped started to feel less ethereal and more defective.
The daydreams of yellow-fever came crashing down when I realized the obvious fact; Japanese women are no different than any other type of woman, objectifying them within the pornography I was addicted to was just another one of my delusions; nothing more than my own invention. There was nothing more mystifying about them over any other type of woman. My hypocrisy has been exposed. Have mercy!
The answer lies not within the maid cafes of Akiba nor the dancing idols within the palm of my hand, rather, it was already within me. Now, when I visit Akihabara, I know I won’t be paying for a moe-moe omurice.
After the innumerable climaxes within these past few years, I have realized that the reasons motivating me to stop have overtaken the desire of wanting to stare at a Japanese woman with plastic surgery. I had overstayed my welcome within the indulgent comfort of the transitionary 2.5D reality and became enslaved to the very vices which I swore to renounce. I had simply shrugged them off because the mystique of seeing my dreams projected on tangible reality ensnared my monkey brain and never let go.
However, this was nothing more than a last-ditch attempt by the Real. 2.5D proved to be no different from the flipside but considerably more destructive to the feeble-minded otaku. There is no difference between a 2D waifu and a 3D idol, both are unattainable existences that will concern your parents equally. The idol is bound to the flipside which makes her appear more tangible for you. Infatuation with 2.5D binds you to reality while similarly forcing you to either come to terms with the painful realization that you can not touch her, while continuing to tell yourself that “this could work!” ultimately paving your own path of no return. 2D won’t hurt anyone, 3D hurts you, but 2.5D hurts everyone.
Allowing yourself to fall into the eternal cycle will only entrap the Marginalized into a state of never letting go, and living the rest of their lives LARPing together with a figment of their imagination, projected desires onto a JK working part-time at a maid cafe. The implications are as dangerous as the ravenous otaku painted by Japanese news from the late 90’s and early 2000’s, so instead of living an unfulfilled existence ensnared by the Real, perhaps it’s best to forego 2.5D entirely.
[Video]
[Video]
I was cured, alright.
This is a farewell to the days when my daydreams were filled with dancing idols and
plastic girls speaking dirty words gently into my ears.
[*~*~*~*~*~*~]
Fill my fond heart with 2D alone, for it
Alone can rival, can succeed to thee.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the JAV-less mind!
(Adapted from Eloisa to Abelard by Alexander Pope)
I own none of the items listed below. I had no ill-intentions using them within my video, all content is property of its respective owners.
Written and filmed by Parz (artificialparzival)
I’d like to personally thank Fukada Eimi for all the good times she’s given me through the past handful of years. I’ve watched her videos for longer than I would like to admit, and I’d be lying to myself if I would retcon this time in my life. It started with KANE-010 for me and I was obsessed with that movie for a bit. She checked every box and the dawning realization that she existed and was within this industry appeared to me as a blessing. The uncanny grin she would give never failed to set my heart and member ablaze. But it began to reveal itself as a curse as I found myself neck-deep in mp4’s and unhealthily obsessed watching her perform in less-than-admirable roles.
I bought a VR headset for my phone not too long ago, specifically to watch virtual reality videos of Eimi. It was a life-altering experience and I found myself diving more and more into the world of misbegotten fantasies and plastic girls more often than I realized. Downloading hundreds of gigabytes of VR videos, draining myself and my phone battery, recharging, then doing it all over again. There was a certain inexplicably ecstasy I found after the first video I watched had Eimi whispering into my ears; beyond Japan and beyond the screen. The abstractions of the setup simply vanished from my mind. It felt so undeniably real I got engrossed within the simulation and lost my grip on what I held dear. My convictions wavered at the sight of my dream girl in JPG. I could almost touch her but my feelings could never possibly reach. And at the end of the video, I realized what I had done and was brought back to Earth. This is what set in motion the events that would lead me to write “Eternal Sunshine of the JAV-less Mind.”
Those inhumanly perfect features rendered thus by plastic surgery, were nothing more than deception. No matter what, she would never be anything more than a porn actress to me. Someone to objectify and fill my naughty daydreams. I never loved her, yet I was obsessed with her. I don’t think I ever felt anything beyond pleasure and twisted desires. She was never the nymphomaniac I wanted her to be, rather, she was a real person with her own thoughts and dreams. I only knew “Fukada Eimi” but I never really knew her. The dream shattered. All those years spent staring into that screen only amounted to me wasting time by creating a falsified amalgamation of all my worst desires.
It was fun while it lasted, but my time here is up. I’m sorry.
So thank you,
And goodbye.
