ON SEX
“Everything in the world is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power”.
Do you agree?
That quote has been misattributed to the great, subversive writer Oscar Wilde but after some digging I found it was most likely said by Robert Michels in an interview about Freud and psychoanalysis. And isn’t it such a pedantic, wannabe omniscient, prescriptive perspective?
Let me posit a better phrase: “Everything is about death, especially sex” - Makwaia ;)
How else could we achieve the closest thing to immortality, physical legacy, progeny? Where else could we grasp at union after the womb and before the grave? Life is deadly and death is pregnant. And we get to micro dose nothingness in that moment of orgasm. Sex is inherently all mixed up in it.
Since life is suffering, does that make us all masochists?
Some are in denial, choose to be despots and then get shat on by expensive sex workers. Some are so good at their role, they gain control by choosing how they are an object of violence, of sexual objectification. Some try to become the law of nature and inflict violence upon others - in consensual and nonconsensual ways.
Kink is so interesting because everyone’s roles are defined and the scene is bounded. It’s the safest way to go off the deep end.
I used to think that doms had all the fun. It made sense that they’d be the ones in control, dictating how they get their pleasure while the subs’ role was to serve their whims. But in the bedroom, in a kink realm so close to the subconscious, the sub defines the boundaries. In the most structural sense, they are in control.
Have you ever experienced sub bliss? It’s the closest you’ll ever get to nirvana. The gap, the void, the breath in before an orgasm. No thoughts, just trust and surrender. A little death before the petit mort. A glimpse of non-existence. Edging death in the arms of someone you love.
Taboo is not to be avoided, in fact it has something to teach us. What you want to avoid, is often a key to what can ultimately free us.
The subconscious, art, and sex all speak the same dream language, in a realm adjacent to reality. Sex can be the safest place to embody and explore our deepest fears, wounds and denials. It turns out they’re inextricably blurred with desire.
Or, fear + trust = intimacy.
The fear becomes visceral, goosebumps on your skin and a quickening heart. Knowing the other could hurt you, holds in their hand the power to end you completely. But conviction that they won’t. Then the trust is intoxicating. Knowing they’ll play your game. Stir up your emotions even physically. The presence of a knife so close has that direct response. Like when a snake is on you, writhing its cold scales, every movement a muscle in exertion. Even though you know it’s not poisonous, you hold your breath. It’s something primal.
The desire is pushing the line. Danger as pleasure, sub bliss, surrender, this flooding of physicality and breathlessness and anticipation that is so sexy it’s making you wet.
.;.
