Extimacy
Intimacy
A lot of extimacy down here. Where things explode loudly to make a lot of noise. A lot of wind and the imposition of a nauseating energy.
Little intimacy.
I observe little intimacy.
Speaking loudly
without thinking
reacting in the T moment
without a thought for sharpness.
Photos above all.
Sex without sexuality.
Meaning above all in the same direction
We are not straight arrows.
Straight arrows never meet. They may eventually collide. They can hurt each other. One blocks the path of the other, which falls silent due to various mutually cancelling factors.
Porn-begging
Extimacy is not exhibition.
Intimacy neither.
Why do I often find so little intimacy within intimacy?
How is it possible to expose oneself without being naked?
I often end up revealing myself more than others who nevertheless show more.
In what proclaims the liberation of bodies, non-conventional sexualities, I sometimes see a continuation of unhappiness. I sometimes see a pride that, in my view, is not in its place. I see at once one of the multiple possibilities, but a non-exhaustive monopoly. I read and see, but I rarely read and see the audacity to name certain things such as tenderness, slowness, love, and to leave space for silence. To leave space for nothing. Space for non-action. – nothing is my biggest fantasy – : “darling, you must not act here”.
Good sexuality does not take root in sexuality. Good sexuality takes root in intimacy. And exposing a raw intimacy stripped of any previous or simultaneous sensuality – is it still sexuality, or rather aggression, violence?
I oppose intimacy and exposure to lying: lying is the enemy of intimacy. Exposure, on the other hand, is its risk: it can be the risk of seeing intimacy stolen, dissolved into a universal artificiality. It can be the risk of intimacy being ignored in favor of form.
Leave a Reply