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Post Apocalyptic Psychology

28.08.14
9 min
Post

–         Kid

–         Hey, what’s up?

–         Writing some. You?

–         Studying a bit.

–         Do you dare come home? I’ll pay the cab, I’m high and really lonely, and tomorrow you join me to Chinatown where I have to buy some stuff.

–         I’m studying and have school tomorrow.

–         Tomorrow there’s a national strike, come, I wanna play the guitar for you, I fetched it today from the luthier’s.

–         No, buses won’t join the strike.

–         They are going to after a few get burned by Moyanists.

–         Yeah but that won’t happen in my way to school because it’s pretty close to my area, which is residential, not downtown.

–         Aight, good luck with that, if you don’t go you tell me.

–         Alright, it’s nice to do stuff when the sun is out as well.

–         The sun goes out every time I smile, if you come I will take care of you and teach you that it’s always daytime somewhere…

–         You’re calling me so I take care of you.

–         No, so you have fun and dare to be more than you think you can… Taking care of you.

–         How would that be?

–         It’d be sexual but nothing sordid, but it doesn’t matter, if you don’t want to it’s not to be forced.

–         I don’t know, I haven’t seen you in ages, I don’t know if you turn me on. And being more than what I think I can is fucking with you?

–         Not if you see it that way… There’s a lot more and I need you to understand it, maybe it’s not meant to be yet, I had to try.

–         I don’t see it in any way, maybe you should elaborate on it.

–         It’s late, I know, maybe another day you dare, I wanna see you but it just never happens… It doesn’t matter… God only knows.

–         If you don’t talk to me and don’t elaborate on it, then no. It’s not late to talk. You are awake, I’m awake too. Show me the astral trip.

–         I have to kiss you for that.

–         You can try to explain a bit with words how is it that I’d see beyond with you.

–         Oofff! You’d see that nothing is just what you see… At least with me… At least now that I wanna see you, that you are more of a woman, more alive/sharper… Bah… I don’t know… I don’t know I don’t know…

–         More alive or sharper?

–         It’s the same.

–         No, you can be alive full of everything and it has nothing to do with sharpness.

–         It doesn’t have to do with words in a chat window… I assure you.

–         Word are beautiful.

–         Caresses are much more beautiful.

–         So all this time you were waiting for me to become a woman?

–         I don’t expect time, I expect sympathy.

–         There was a lot of sympathy before.

–         Before there were dangerous illusions, now I believe understanding and comprehension are possible. But maybe I came too early.

–         What kind of dangerous illusions?

–         Yours.

–         Those were illusions, not dangerous. A teenager’s illusions.

–         That’s why, nothing more dangerous than a teenager with illusions towards a teenager with no illusion.

–         Yeah, only you weren’t a teenager anymore, you just stuck with the teen angst. It wasn’t dangerous because it was fleeting as every teenage illusion, or most of them.

–         Men stick to the teen angst till he dies or remains alone.

–         No, not men.

–         Anyway, you’re right… Better during the day…

–         You cook on a high flame, women are slow cooked, teenagers are cooked on a high flame.

–         Haha. Let’s not generalize anymore, you don’t want to, I won’t insist. I’ll touch myself a bit and sleep with my guitar.

–         No, clearly you don’t want to.

–         No, I want almost everything, except bother someone else… I won’t bother you anymore.

–         Sex ain’t McDonald’s. You want to say “ah” and form to immediately get on a cab to your house when I haven’t seen you in ages.

–         I just love women, if it’s sex, it’s a thing of two, if it’s love it’s taking a lot of care.

–         You even had a daughter, that’s how long I haven’t seen you.

–         Sex moves me but it’s not my goal. I wanted to play for someone.

–         You have really specific times for that. If we were Anne Rice’s vampires it’d be more suitable.

–         To me, time is a farce of the human’s mind. All this happened already.

–         I know it already happened.

–         We are what we can be.

–         But in this dimension there’s time as a measure. People can be even more than what they think possible.

–         Then we see each other in this dimension, in another time… I’m good. I wasn’t before and that’s why I didn’t mess with you.

–         However, you used to ask me to go to your house because you were alone and high after the witching hour before as well. I went once. What changed between those times and this one?

–         I’ve never respected any girl as pretty and appealing as you, because there weren’t any, but now I have more to give and less to confuse…

–         OK, that’s good.

–         I take care of everyone now, including me.

–         Thanks for the “pretty and appealing” part. Maybe I should witness it, I don’t know, I don’t imagine you that way.

–         That’s why your illusion is no longer dangerous.

–         Because there is no illusion.

–         There always is.

–         But if the way of seeing how you can take care of me and how you changed and how good you are now is, just as when you weren’t, telling me to go at 3AM, only now you would fuck me, how is that taking care of me?

–         I wouldn’t do anything that I wouldn’t be able to confront tomorrow, being as loving as when I gave you that beautiful bath.

–         To fuck I need to trust and I haven’t seen you in ages.

–         Sex is for monkeys, I’m a wolf, I won’t want to fuck you if I see you are not eager, I haven’t done it before even though you were easy. And another thing, I don’t change, I learn.

–         We all change.

–         It’s a way of saying it, I’ve never taken advantage of you.

–         I know.

–         Are you still a virgin?

–         Pff no. How funny. I was a late bloomer but I made up for lost time. I wouldn’t have held on it that longer.

–         Time is not lost… I’m sorry I asked, I guess I’ll always want to take care of you but I don’t know if from me.

–         From you what?

–         I don’t keep you away from me because I’m not scared of hurting you anymore. Well, that’s it… I leave you alone… For now…

–         OK. Did you continue seeing J? I remembered the time we went to his place.

–         No, but we appreciate each other. J is a nice boy.

–         What does that have to do with anything? I just asked because I’ve never seen him again.

–         Did you make-out with him? Do you like Adventure Time?

–         We kissed once, everybody wanted me to be with him but I didn’t like him.

–         Everybody who… The ones who are never around?

–         R, C, that group.

–         Old people.

–         It was funny because he wouldn’t dare because R told him that if he wanted anything with me it had to be serious, he couldn’t fool around with me, R took care of me. But I didn’t want anything with J. He was cute, though.

–         L fucked him and I don’t know why I know that, but I know it fucked him up. Hehehe… How nosy I am.

–         Everybody knows L fucked him.

–         I don’t know if she could, but why are we talking about this?

–         About her traumatizing J? I don’t know, it’s funny.

–         I asked you if you like Adventure Time.

–         Adventure Time is good, I like Regular Show better.

–         Mordecai.

–         Yeah and Rigby. Genius.

–         Totally, those toons are the best thing ever.

–         Yeah, totally.

–         Pops.

–         Pops is amazing.

–         Muscle Man hahahaha

–         My mooom.

–         Benson?

–         No, Muscle Man.

–         I don’t know, but this is what we could be talking about in person, I was a fool to scare you with my sexopathy. Hi Five Ghost.

–         If you’d tell me to hop on a cab to talk, I would still have school tomorrow.

–         OK, then study and rest.

–         I’m studying while we talk.

–         OK… BMo it’s the best of Adventure Time.

–         I haven’t seen much, I should watch more Adventure Time.

–         Studying Post-apocalyptic Psychology.

–         That too.

–         And Princess Bubblegum is so B.

–         There are Regular Show emojis, this is amazing!

–         I love Marceline.

–         Yeah, Marceline is great.

–         She plays an axe bass like Kiss’ Gene Simons.

–         Yeah, she’s great.

–         I’m off. I’ll insist another day… That’s what women like, right? Hahaha kidding.

–         Hahaha funny.

–         Kisses, beautiful.

–         When you let too much time go by, we forget. Bisous!

–         I wish I could forget what’s good for me to forget about.

–         It’s not good to forget, it’s nice to remember. The brain keeps in its depths the things that truly affect us. If you remember, you can overcome it. I meant something different, anyway.

–         We’ll see… Take a lot of care. I appreciate you very much, I want to see you soon in whatever plan we can.

–         You’ll say.

–         I’ve said too much already.

–         No, you spoke about some topics, you didn’t make any plans.

–         Muack!

–         Hahah, you’re funny. Anyway, this time in the middle of the week, if you want to chat, great, but I don’t think I can go to your house and listen to you play the guitar, that’s what I meant. In more daily-life-friendly hours or if it’s the weekend, but I live far, so not too late.

–         Alright… I’ll try.

–         OK.

–         It’s just that I’m always running… Well, it will happen eventually. Kisses, kisses and more kisses.

–         Well, when you know you’ll have some free time not so spontaneously. Bisous!!

On Love

28.08.14
2 min
Conversation

I’m a writer and though I don’t have to tell a story every time I write I love to tell one every now and then. There is a sense of coherence a story gives us, call it comfort from all those unfnished threads in our lives. Love can set characters in motion and thus creates action. I believe it does the same to our lives. It makes us move, boast, pretend, yearn, laugh, fear and cry.  It makes us want to come closer. Or away from it. Sure, what you say is right: there would be no lovesickness, no unfulfilled longing. There would be no fear of loss and no fear of pain, no fear of dependence and no fear of being humiliated by the ones we love. No fear of abandonment and one-way-love. And yet, to deconstruct Love in a way you would deconstruct Christianity feels utterly wrong. Yes. We do have an academic-intellectual narrative about the ways we invented Love, above all Romantic Love. The One you might compare to Christianity, today’s neurosis, played out best as a marketing instrument for whatsoever, particularly our lives. But only because there is a nausea in certain manifestations of Love doesnt’t mean that Love in itself is. I know this sounds like Old Communists’ Rhetorics, claiming just cause Russia failed doesn’t mean Communism failed. But to rid us of Love is to rid us of our most human aspect: our vulnerability towards others, most of all the ones we love. Would this leave more space for action? Maybe. But I am not sure at all whether I would want to live in a world inhabited by human beings acting free from Love. Fear can make us better. And what if we are not yet at a level where we live Real Love. What if we lived out Bad Love most of our days…

On Love

27.08.14
1 min
Conversation

This is the interesting thing about Love, as you say, because like a lot of ideologies and religions it produces the suffering it pretends to do away with. Without Love there would not be lovesickness. Without Love there would be not unfulfilled longing. There might be more action without love and less fear. Less doubt. Less self-hatred. It reminds me of christianity creating the sins it pretends to forgive.

On Love

26.08.14
1 min
Conversation

So this is asking me to be the Advocate of Love…. The only bourgeois thing about Love is to believe that Love is bourgeois, just construction, invisible, wish. Sitting by the ocean I see Love in little gestures, gazes, in the tense bodies of fathers watching their kids playing and fighting with the vastness of mediterranean elements – though most of the beaches neatly tailored for tourists… I see Love mostly where it isn’t cause you see longing eating up the unloved bodies and eyes…

On Love

25.08.14
1 min
Conversation

Love is such a bourgeois subject. Is it even real? We talked – briefly, on Twitter, tentatively, but with a strange confidence – about two kinds of love, the lover*s love and the other love, a son, a father, a painting maybe even. But, very simply put: If love were real, why is it so hard to find, to see, to communicate, to hold on to? Is love ever more than just a trick of the self to believe there is some sweeter form of reality?

Groin Gazing

24.08.14
3 min
Conversation

I had this girlfriend, our intimacy involves her watching me make love to myself. I had to learn this, get used to being (aroused from being) looked at this way. In a way, something about this transgresses the construction of masculinity.
(I will come back to this.) There is, to quote art critic John Berger, a “lived sexuality” in these looks – in the sense of, to go further with Berger, the state of being naked as opposed to being nude. In this regard, it’s instructive to note that Adam and Eve’s shame, after eating of the apple, was not from each other – they were not ashamed to look at each other, their shame was from a third party looking at them. When sharing a look with someone you’re intimate with, you’re naked, you’re yourself without disguise or artifice. There is, on the other hand, a cultural way of looking, viz., how men and women are culturally represented.
I will deal with this presently. To go back to the construction of masculinity: how do men encourage women to look, to desire them? How do women look at men – that is to say, who is the looking woman? Generally speaking, men do not encourage women to look at them, to desire them in ways that reimagines masculinity.
So, all too often, when a woman looks at a man, it is a man, a type of man, looking through her. This brings me back to Milbrath’s photos and the cultural representation of men and women. What you say about the male gaze’s relation to power, its need to dominate, to make women’s evaluation of self male-dependent is absolutely true.
It remains to state that too many women have internalized these power relations and evaluation of self. Milbrath’s photos testify to this: it reproduces masculinity as a phallic force. The photographed phalluses are in attack position, they are photographed in relation to what they can do, what they are about to do. When men, on the other hand photograph women, women are photographed in a submissive, expectant (in the sense of what can be done to them, what they expect to be done to them) position. These images of domination and submission find their sharpest expression in mainstream pornography. In agreeing with you on this, I align myself with Shere Hite.
I do think, however, one can offer a critic of male-oriented porn the same way one can criticize a female-oriented one: they both express the same thing – a running away from real sexuality into objectification and stereotypes. (I am, of course, opposed to right-wing moralists and anti-pornography feminists.) I agree with you on the need to de-objectify the look of desire.
If I say, in response to your question, that acceptance of the male gaze leads to a personal and professional dead-end, what I mean is the tendency of acceptance to stifle, to limit creativity, real sexual love, its tendency to lead to the physical and emotional impossibility of the satisfaction of real sexual desire.
This takes me back to Milbrath’s photos. It seems to me that in her more-or-less conscious attempt to look at men the same way men have always looked at women, she has produced images that testify to men’s sense of self: male notion of potency, in relation to women’s submission to this potency.

Groin Gazing

24.08.14
4 min
Conversation


Me and my boyfriend have a morning ritual, when we are in different places: he switches on skype when he goes under the shower, so I can watch him.
I love to see his naked body splashed with water. It’s also a beautiful moment of intimacy in our daily life, that we share. It was new to him, but he learned to really enjoy it, also it changed his self-perception as a desired man. Do heterosexual men enjoy being looked at and desired by women?
Did they learn to enjoy it? Or is it forbidden, ‘cos we falsely connect it to passivity which is not acceptable for our perception of masculinity. I guess the magic trick is to disconnect desire with passivity and objectification and connect it to mutual appreciation. For me it was always very natural to resist seeing myself as a bait for men, as it is suggested by that presumption you mention. And I do believe that female and male sexuality are more complex than that, but also not very different from each other.
It actually never occurred to me that it’s more normal that men look at me than I look at them with desire. So, for me, Milbrath’s images just mirror a very relaxed normality in the relation I have to my enjoyment of the beauty of men, which I miss in a way in everyday life, ‘cos the images in our culture go only one way: men look at women, ‘cos gazing is connected to power, a power of judging, that men don’t want to give up. Men give women value, so women need the evaluation of men to feel good about themselves.
It’s simply a tool of patriarchy to keep women’s self-esteem dependent on men’s judgment. That is the ugly part of it, which we need to break through and turn into something beautiful and powerful for everyone. We have to distinguish objectification from enjoyment based on equality. When I see a table dance-bar, I feel excluded, ‘cos I know there are just women with certain beauty standards on stage and all sorts of men watching. I find that very limiting.
I would like to enjoy that too, I would like to see men up there, as well as people of all shapes and colours. I would like to enjoy their enjoyment of their pure physicality, dis-connected from money and oppression. This enjoyment is indeed very sexy to me, especially when its free of these standard ideas of beauty, dictated by an industry which only tries to make us feel ugly, so we buy their products and which feels indeed very dead and restricted for me. There is a performer called Diane Torr, who sometimes dresses up as an elderly man while doing a pole-dance. It’s not satire, it’s not a joke, she indeed shows how sexy and transgressive, freeing that can be.
There is the term “sex-positive feminism“, which addresses the attempt to open up this enjoyment, but with regard to equality, and mutual respect, not with the purpose of objectification and submission as we see in male directed porn or commercials. Have you heard about that? When feminism started to address porn as a problem in the 60s it focused on the porn that existed, which was produced for men and didn’t take into account female desire or sexual practices that women enjoy.
Because of that criticism feminism got this bad reputation to be against lust and desire, while indeed it was only criticizing the limitations of sex portrait in the existing porn. From there women developed their own forms of sexual depictions which took into account the complex desire different people have and which women can enjoy as well. That is called sex-positive feminism.
I see Milbrath’s images in that context. I want to see all of us shaking booty, men, women, disabled, fat or skinny, black or white, not only women with certain measurements. Do you perceive the one way male gaze is a dead end in your personal and professional life (you can take “dead end“ literally and symbolically)?

Groin Gazing

24.08.14
1 min
Conversation

The common presumption in society and the media is that erotic response to visual stimuli is not characteristic of female sexuality. For instance, pornographic magazines and videos directed at men are a multibillion dollar industry while similar products directed towards women are difficult to find. I’m looking at Claire Milbrath’s photo series of phalluses cloaked in khaki and denim, entitled “Groin Gazing,” and how it speaks to female desire. I wonder about the female response to Milbrath’s images.

Didi Cheeka
People

With Robert Capa, it’s frozen images. With Didi Cheeka, it’s moving ones. With Capa, it’s the world’s theatres of war. With Didi, it’s city streets and torn human souls. In this, however, there’s a connection: truth is the best picture. If there’s poetry in these images, it’s the poetry of disgust, a tragi-lyrical poetry.
With Didi, there’s also the power of words. Words and images, bitterly charged (like a symphony orchestra conducted in ruins). As if there’s no one to talk to; as if in desperation to reach the unreachable. Sometimes, there’s the impression of a broken poet in search of one-night stands to exchange words with…

Photo: Agostina Rufolo

Mario's Books

16.08.14
3 min
Post

I fell completely in love one beautiful autumn afternoon. One of those that it’s a bit chilly but the sun is shining and it warms your back or face up and the leaves are falling off from the trees and you get to step on them and you listen to one of the most amazing crunchy sounds on earth and there’s this cold but not so cold breeze and the smell of the mixture between cold air and the warmth of the sun in the air. This man was sitting at the door of the book shop. He was sitting on a deck chair at the entrance of the store, one of those old people use at the beach, the ones that are used only to sit down at the beach, maybe where the sea touches your feet a little bit making them fresh for a few seconds. He reminded me of Steve Zissou, Bill Murray’s character on Wes Anderson’s Life Aquatic, or maybe just plain and wonderful Jacques Cousteau or a simple mariner resting after months off-shore. This book shop buys and sells used books, as many around the area, so I decided one day to see if they would take my textbooks and some children books from when my sister and I were little. I took a bunch of them, because all of them would’ve been too heavy, and rushed towards the closing store. It was 6PM, but this book store has the weirdest schedule and its rare to find it open (it’s usually open in the morning and from 3 to 6 PM) but you’re truly lucky if you actually do. I ran as fast as I could while carrying those heavy books and talked to the man that was heading out. He called Mario, the man that gave the name to the book shop. He came in a grumpy way to the door, slowly, with his walking stick serving as help. I talked to him as politely and kindly as I could, observing that he wasn’t an easy character to get along with. He took a look at my books and said they were too old and of no use at schools nowadays. He didn’t say it in the most kindest of ways, but he was right. It’s been long since I went to primary school, publishers change textbooks every year nowadays so people can’t buy them used, and there was no chance someone would buy my books from him. I was a little surprised, though, that he didn’t take the children books, which were in perfect shape. This book store was so full of books it was a bit difficult to get in, so I didn’t bother, since I wasn’t planning on buying anything that day but rather sell. But if that would’ve been the case, it’s a lovely place full of dusty literary gems worthy of the most avid explorer and curiouseur with its infinite number of paper-made floor-to-ceiling columns covering the whole place. Served by his owner, grumpy but endearing Mr. Mario, with his walking stick and his almost a thousand years old.

Post Apocalyptic Psychology

28.08.14
9 min

On Love

28.08.14
2 min

On Love

27.08.14
1 min

On Love

26.08.14
1 min

On Love

25.08.14
1 min

Groin Gazing

24.08.14
3 min

Groin Gazing

24.08.14
4 min

Groin Gazing

24.08.14
1 min

Mario's Books

16.08.14
3 min