A schadenfreudal orgasm.
Delightful.
Author's Note: This lengthy diatribe was inspired by a sf-drama post -- a forum I do not attend, nor do I desire becoming invested in -- which elicited a severe twitch of irritation within me. I, very reluctantly, said nothing. After all, why would I, somebody who devotes massive amounts of their time into Dare-I-Say-PC research, ever want to ( Read more... )
Author's Note: This lengthy diatribe was inspired by a sf-drama post -- a forum I do not attend, nor do I desire becoming invested in -- which elicited a severe twitch of irritation within me. I, very reluctantly, said nothing. After all, why would I, somebody who devotes massive amounts of their time into Dare-I-Say-PC research, ever want to ( Read more... )
I suppose the first thing I want to address is the detailing of romance -- either mildly interlocked or completely divorced from -- sex. It's something that I've mentioned grappling with internally: how a rigid line drawn for orientation (with regards to being "homo-romantic") delves into an essentialistic territory that I'm rather disconcerted by. That being stated, I grok your descriptions of sensuality (romance defined within your own parameters) perfectly. I have no reservations about eroticizing traditionally un-erotic things, provided it contains that associated pureness. Unfortunately, as I mentioned in my post, the entwining of carnality and inanimate objects, for example, is usually done with a kitschy and rancid deviance ... and one that is quite deliberate. Obviously, you understand that this isn't rooted in puritannical naysaying, because I have no problems with eroticism that isn't forcefully paraded onto my "turf". When it's exerted in this vein, the issue of wondering "Yet how much of this is influenced by a series of snapshots, linguistic bias, an accumulation of outside exposure?" becomes a perpetual dark cloud that poisons the experiences.
Some might say "Well, then aren't you just describing a preference for alternative sexuality, then, and not simply asexuality?" -- which is why I mentioned that, given a different hypothetical world, things could possibly be quite different. At the world stands, both presently and historically, there is no way to embrace an alternative genre without embracing a reproduced facsimile of conventional intimacy; the collective baggage will always trickle within, along with snapshots of aggregates for flavor ... in other words, a different slew of terminologies and motions will differ, but the bottom line will not. Individualism with regards to sexuality is a prominent issue, in other words."Point is, I do always recall how people were willing to accept that perhaps I was a lesbian (of course, most men still don't get this) before even considering the asexual option. In a way, I do feel like I ebb and flow between homosexuality and asexuality, if only because while I have a very large romantic attraction to woman (which comes with erotic desire and arousal sometimes), I actually don't mind when I have 'dry spells' or when I am sexually inactive."
And this is the crux of my issue. All of this, here. What you mentioned about the Mother-Child-But-Not-Quite-That component (and subsequent creepy reactions from others) is also interesting; I've attempted detailing it within the framework of siblinghood before, which elicits paralleled disturbing reactions and incestuous conceptualizations from others -- which, is not at all What I Meant.
I suppose my first paragraph rattles off alarm bells of ... well, is this simply a semantic argument between sexuality and sensuality, and aren't these concepts perpetually fluid to begin with? Which is a seperate topic of interest of mine that I'm willing to bat around. But the immediate answer, for the time being, is "No."
I'm going to keep replying to you here & there; hope you don't mind.
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I've always talked about how I've had sister-like relationships with my girlfriends, and people just ... don't really understand what I mean, haha.
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But yes, I've even stated to people who just think that my need to redefine romance means I only have ~confused friendship feelings~ for women and don't really want them (EXPLAIN MY LOVE OF CUNNILINGUS THEN, YOU GUYS) is that although it's not my preference or ideal, I'd be in a romantic friendship with a man if I found one that I felt that way for. Or however I choose to explain the certain type of romance that I want (but seem to never be able to have. WOE).
We really should talk more about this sometime. If only because I need to talk about it as much as possible to organize my thoughts. They are so horribly jumbled because most of them stay in my head :c
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Another thing you said elsewhere:"[W]hether they are trying to repress it or are thinking what makes them wet or hard is so sacred that anyone criticizing it is somehow oppressive, the Sacred Cow of Horniness.
Of course. This is one thing that got me into several explosive arguments with pro-kink types; I was demanded to define what differentiated prostitution from run-of-the-mill capitalistic exploitation ("What makes this so special?"), to which I had to reply "Well, what makes your kink so special and impervious with regards to how we discuss generalized exploitation under patriarchy?"
I also have to say: I'm using your personal stories as a platform to intellectualize other things, which were inspired by your thoughts. Hope this doesn't bother you. In fact, the relevant topic (intertwining of lesbianism and asexuality) is so compelling to me that it's almost like I want to get the endless caveats out of the way so I can analyze the symptomatic issue more thoroughly with you. So. We'll definitely expand on that in a bit, because I seriously need to.
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It doesn't bother me at all.
And I just thought of how Redefining Romance could probably, and IS probably, the title of a totally cheesy "how to fix your marriage" self-help book or something. I do love the concept of it, though.
And I'm going to reply to your comment below, and then finally get about three or four hours of sleep in (I have to go to a car lot at nine :[ ). I'll try to talk about my [pre-dating my identity with feminism] need to redefine romance and some of the ideas that I have, but that admittedly will be VERY tl;dr and I am not of the coherency to do such a thing at the moment.
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I've been leaving the computer at times, and I haven't slept yet either, so my replies will be sporadically timed. I've got a fuckton of garbage to pontificate about, and it's cathartic in a way.
Good luck sleeping/the car situation. <3
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Another interesting thing. Sex work has only enhanced this, and it's a difficult mannerism to shed, which is particularly frightening given how unconscious it's become at this point. I'm conditioned to, to put it bluntly, pretending to earnestly give a shit about what imbecilic men have to say. Now, this mannerism has fortunately carried over towards how I interact with women, but the difference resides in the fact that with women, it's actually meaningful. This attribute pre-dated my feminist learnings, for what it's worth.
Anyhow: So I'd have this similar habit of unconsciously flirting with men, while simultaneously talking shit to them. Horrible pot-stirring, really, which is also unconscious. I've heard it once described as "The Hot-and-Cold Coquette", which is really just a fancy way of describing abusive behavior. It's not a matter of noticing when I'm accommodating and then kicking myself -- as I mentioned, it's all primarily impulsive, and I often have to arduously reign myself in -- both from letting the invisible hands instigate a smile, and from being a douchebag.
What's also astounding is that women, generally, tend to interact with me as they would with men. I can't really explain this well -- rather, I'm relatively uncomfortable elaborating on this publicly, because I haven't figured out how to articulate this yet. I'll expand on this in IMs, later on. To simplify here: It's not the "pretending" component, but rather the component of "masculinizing" me, whatever that even means. And the difference is that you and I respond towards men differently than how these (usually heterosexual) women interact with men. That's all I can say, for now.
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What's unfortunate about sex work is that "triggers" are so versatile, and you often forget which abusive or coercive incidents occurred while on the clock, or which took place in personal life. Everything blurs together incoherently. Sometimes, with more serious customers, they intersected: I recall dozens of paid creepy dinners with clients; receiving "personal" gifts (books on Egyptian civilization, sociology, Brazilian Portuguese -- one customer had inscribed a poem he had written for me in calligraphy, and framed it, which I should probably scan for you sometime.) I perpetually associate my gift-storage with being massaged, fondled, groped, their fingers climbing spiderlike down my skin.
Even the majority of my personal relationships -- particularly with male friendships -- were poisoned by this foreboding eclipse. Premonitions would occur, to which I'd be eventually proven correct in spotting their agendas, which would then be rationalized exasperatingly by them: "Yes, sue me for finding an attractive woman ... attractive." It was rather contemptuous to me, considering I prioritized intellectual companionship first and foremost, and I had wanted to believe they were fascinated by my cerebrum rather than my pulchritude. "Oh, but god, can't it be both?" For me ... No.
The notion of women being communal property is hardly a novel one. Similarly how Dworkin described the "piles of faceless bodies", I visualize piles of encounters, montages of invasive tactile sensations; distinguishing them is impossible. When I attempt to un-bias my perspective and "see the other side", a degree of self-blaming commences ... I, after all, was always brazenly outgoing, making even terrible people feel welcome in my presence, and then I could never get rid of them.
Aside from that, I cannot divorce the concept of "normal" advances with "unnerving" ones -- this shallow notion of "let's hook up so I can get to know you" was always fucking absurd to me. Regrettably, I also internalized notions of advancements and was rather aggressive with women myself. The concept of lesbianism is obviously not "I adore all women, and accept their advancements, every time" -- so I speculated if my being relatively un-threatened by women was rooted in the conception that women aren't supposed to be threatening. I also pondered if it was some degree of projected bi-phobia (swinger-phobia?); after all, most women who advanced on me were married or otherwise "taken", and it registered to me that I could be an afterthought to them rather than a goal.
And yes, we'll also chat on AIM.
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