From beloved queen to her dear subjects


Who is that "other one" anyways?

How does a porn differ from a regular movie? Aside of the usual answers - like the quality of acting (or presence of it at all, or its desirability). Aside of the legal definitions standing on the grounds of cock standing or hanging. We, whatever spoilt by an art called cinema, pray for the introduction scenes of porn to end quickly. Often we click through and fast forward to "see the action" or " get to the point". We are turned on, we consume it and turn it off. We might be already learning to objectify - the actors, the scene, the act. In a state of cum-pulsive bliss we might forget that even observing the very detail of playing organs, there are fantasies running on our screen and we might be watching completely different movie than the one seen on retina.

Except naturalist uncut haute-couture movies about the depersonalization of post-modern age sex, the "regular films" tend to hide more and stretch the foreplay to infinity. They have stories, they have style, they have incomprehensible untenable magic ... and (for some surprisingly) they are often more erotic, exciting, tasty - than the best porn of the year. So, we do not avoid the drama at all. It's just that tastless skill-lacking artificial way it is enacted in sex-production, that makes loose interest. So - shall we teach porn-actors how to act better or should we rather convince the real actors of real movies to show us more?

HitchCock (pun intended), with his horror movies, taught us that the most frightening thing is the one we don't see. Our subconsciousness paints the scariest monsters on the neutrally dark spots of the screen. He had no time maybe to tells us, that the same is valid for sex as well. There's an African tribe, where folks walk nude all day around, dressing up only "for the night". Not realizing it, those among us responding to fetishes do the same - we dress up before we undress. The quality and believability of the first step (putting clothes on) tends to enhance the turn-on more than the final striptease.

While the easily obtainable, casually negotiated, spontaneous sexcapade might be a fantasy of a mind - mind and namely reason do not play much of a part in an experience of sexuality. If "- Do you want to fuck? - Yeah, let's go!" and instantaneous aiming of the cannons is a canon of porn, immediate biting of a snaky bite is a sure antidote to excitement in a way. There's no tension, no story, no thrill. In mythology, Eros was wooing to Psyche - likewise the erotics of a certain moment is felt in depth of the soul, unless it is offended or overrun straightaway. Though, there are no borders to being pathetic - while porn often resigns to even imitate life, many of us imitate porn in life.

I usually get bored by scenes of mindless banging, finding even machine-washing more stirring. I laugh at some of the manly/intense/passionate looks and moans and groans enacted. I wonder how on earth could someone get turned on by stranger grabbing his genitals without even a "Hey there!". But we all have our kinks, be it so. I get uneasy when I see this being replicated from one "art-piece" to another. I get really perplexed, when real living guys act these scenes in front of me - maybe in a good intention to please me - the same looks, same moans, same unapologetic grasping, banging, macho brutality. The whole usual scenario. Lick, suck, fuck, cum, spit.

Not that I don't enjoy BDSM. Not that I reject kinks. I don't mind fooling around with the stranger, I don't mind playing rough, I don't object to only-one-night-stands. I revere the idea of free love. Using sunglasses, I might even see the point of easy fun without "too much philosophy", appeal of "no strings attached" sort of involvement. But please, show me the joy, playfulness, intensity worth of that one night! Show me "the love", "the freedom", "the fun"! The "sex worshipers" usually surgically remove any sexiness from their activities, the "letshavefun-ists" take it too serious and there's no fun, no play, no joy in their performance, while "the lovers" have not a pinch of love for their partners.

Love? I might be losing at least half of the gay audience! Why we have to add cube of sugary love to every brew. Why can't we enjoy just a bit of casual sex, without falling in love? A bit of carnal sports, pleasure for the sake of pleasure, without having to build a tower of relationship around it. Fun without too much drama. The expressions we use betray the split within the queer nation - how those into sex see those into relationship (un-genuine, artifically romantic!) et vice versa (sluts!). "I can't have sex without love" is frequently voiced statement, though unnecessarily followed by "so I want a someone for relationship". This forced appendix uncovers another juicy topic - our long-term (if not eternal) unions that we construct, where our partners are used as the objects for it. It's just a matter of language tradition that we have come to use relationships as a synonym for love, though they can be as loveless, storyless, adventureless, safeness lacking and tastelessly smacking, as much as how the "casual sex" is usually imagined.

The history proves that the times of war sharpen the weapons and blunt the sensitiveness. The acts of living (sex, relationship) and acts of killing (compromising oneself) become habitual and mechanical. Living daily and continuously in this state of things - permanent war of relationships versus sex - proves a need for a bit of love. In a world of cold-blooded competition, imprinted and supported day by day, meeting a person that does not want to use us, abuse us, hurt us, overpower us, outrun us - is An Event. A person that we may approach, cross the line of trust towards him, touch him, connect intimately with - is a reason for A Celebration. If he does not want to use us as an object, for his selfish aim, but is standing in front of us as we do - with his wholeness, his desires, vulnerabilities, fears, limits, peculiarities - it's the close encounter of the "fourth kind".

It can be a mere touch as much as an affair lasting a week or slow process of getting to know each other for months without any decisions, declarations or framing. It does not have to last for a romantic "eternity", nor a lifetime, nor a number of years - in order for it to be nice, to be joyful, to be supporting, to be enriching, to be healing, to be fulfilling, to be appreciated, to be honored, to be respected, to have value. It can be even that casual sex. It does not need to be performed in a particular way, with particular moans and groans, no faces are needed to affirm that the other one is doing it good. There is no "good" or "bad", if it is happening in fully conscious and wholesome presence of two (or more) beings, if they are honest to themselves and to each-other, if they care about the other one. If they do care, they will watch and see how the other one is feeling with every move they make.

This is no exam, no evaluation, no tournament to prove our skills and abilities. Just the fact that the situation happened means that we are worth it. There's nothing to demand and nothing to expect. This is a safe space to relieve. This is a place where finally we don't have to do anything in any prescribed way. Sexuality is (may be) the last resort to escape "know-hows". There are no amateurs and no professionals. There's one and only art - of letting the other person know that he is safe to try to express how does he feel about what is happening to him right now.

The more we are able not to impose the expectations - on us, on him - then more we are able to get from the situation. As much space we give, as much space we get. It's an opening of a playground as vast (by quantity) and as exciting (by quality) as we allow ourselves. There is no scenario, no required gymnastic set, nothing to accomplish. Touching him does not mean we have to kiss him. Kissing him does not mean we have to suck him. Sucking him does not mean we have to bring him to orgasm. Making him cum does not mean that he has to make us cum. What do I like at this moment? What does he like at this moment?

This is no task to accomplish, nothing to achieve, no goal. We don't have to perform acts. We don't have to have (sex, relationship), we don't have to do. We can be together, we can feel each other. To a certain extent, the other person mirrors how are we able to be with ourselves, to feel ourselves. (That might be a reason why so many partners and many lovers feel lonely in a company of their mate.) A freedom to have sex is actually a freedom, a heartfelt freedom, not an obligation to have sex in a particular way. It is a safe space to do whatever one wants with regard to the other being (subject!), to explore, to try, to fail safely without failing.

Instead of having to get hard, we can revel in seeing him, looking at him, watching him, explore him, discover him. As long as it is enjoyable for both. We can hear his sounds, observe his breath, sniff his smells, taste him, touch him in hundreds of ways, release him, reconnect with him. We can browse the scale of tenderness and roughness, decency and piglet-cy, we can go on for night and day and another night, or just fall asleep together. To meet with intention to sleep together (unlike in modern dictionary where to sleep = to fuck = to move = to do), to fall asleep in the middle of something, to cuddle while being awake. To spend the time that we were probably supposed to fuck through - just doing together something else we like. One-night-stand can be a one-night-intimacy.

Being able to say "yes" to our most secret fantasies seems to be an ultimate blessing. Though being encouraged to say "no" (and be heard and be respected) is a sign of ultimate safety and trust. Being endowed with freedom to slow down, to stop - not feeling like on a running train where we would bother other passengers by pulling the emergency break - is a sign of ultimate light speed... and lightness that does not load us with unnecessary responsibility of what "must be done". The real responsibility that we have actually represents one face of love: If we love someone, at least the default love towards another human being, we would not put him to danger of life, health, or well-being.

This is no war, no battle, no competition. While in social context it is perceived as the essential expression of "maleness", the male is still a gender, a sex, a sexual energy that craves for satisfaction. The satisfaction based on feeling of embracing safety, trust and joy might disarm any urge to cover up ones insecurities or to fight with rivals. The point of mating is actually to throw oneself on the bed, stop acting macho and be just (hu)man, just to be. Where else could one put away the social masks, if not in bed? Where else we can put on the most absurd latex masks and leather costumes ... that allow us to let go of the social roles?

The sex is a war reverse. Even if - like a monad - each one contains a trace, a germ, a streak of the opposite. We - the open and also the closeted fetishists (everyone) - know how the erotics of the soldier or sportsmen fantasies work. We know how exciting sex can be in power exchanges. Whatever theater is enacted, there's still one core process happening: Two lonely beings are for a brief moment not lonely. Two hunted creatures are for a fraction of a life feeling safe. Two complete strangers are connecting intimately. Protecting each-other's body, soul, interests, doubts, worries, dreams, strangeness, uniqueness. Tenderly taking each-other's crazyness and fragile oddity into hands, caress it, pet it, kiss it on the brow.

Our culture puts too much emphasis on overcoming the obstacles, being skilled, strong, invincible, brave and bold. While there is close to none education in how to deal with joy, happiness, pleasure. Weird as it may sound - since we aim for them all the time - we have hardly an idea how to process them. If we face the situation of being blessed, there's almost comical cluelessness, whether we see beauty, touch beauty or even become part of beauty. At best we follow advice to stay alert, not to get overexcited, be wary. Some of us get so nervous that they need to light a cigarette, write something down, have a drink. Some of us feel urge to capture the beauty (painting, nowadays to take camera picture). The enlightened ones know that they need to confirm beauty by some meaningful ritual. A prayer, a religious ceremony or an equivalent - be it a feast, a festival, a concert, a gathering or an event where we can share it. Creative ones want to add something to the beauty using art. Write a poem, paint it, play the favorite song. A sex, making love, can be a way how to add to the beauty of a moment, to share it, to spread it, to multiply it and in the same time to create it from nothing. That's what is described by vague term "celebration of life".

Too much to think of for a brief encounter - as sex? On the contrary, the point to free, uninhibited, spontaneous sexuality is not to constrain oneself with lots of things to do, limitations and expectations. Quite the opposite - to let go, to strip everything to the flesh and bone of our nude humanity.

Why couldn't this happen in the instantaneous sex? What is the purpose of casual fuck at the end? How else "a bit of fun" could be fun at all?

If one guards how he is performing, he cannot enjoy himself. If one does not make his partner feel safe, he is not safe either. He cannot relax and the result won't be good for anyone. If one does not care about the other one, he cannot expect him to care about ones own pleasure - why then to meet at all?

If one does not feel anything towards the other person, is he able to feel anything by himself?