Porn and alienation
Porn is a fantasy that seeks to be acted out. It is also a fantasy that is unattainable. By definition, it must lead to despair.
But assume for a moment that it is possible to attain the fantasy, and that we would want it if we attained it. Assume that women became hyper-sexualized automatons, who spoke only as a bridge between liaisons. Assume that twenty minute coitus was normative, and not tedious. Assume that you could actually be attracted to a woman who would copulate with any sentient being in the room. Assume that you wouldn’t leave a porn encounter with a vendetta against reason, and take every possible drug to avoid living with yourself. Assume That the scene would abruptly change after climax, and you wouldn’t have to be faced with that horrid “what now”? Assume that onanism was everything you always wanted. Assume that Women would not hate or resent you for subjecting them to every manner of contortionist novelty. Assume that you would never conceive a child.
Are you living fantasy yet? No. Something remains. Even in this state, what are you? A performer You are doing what you have seen: you are acting This is your show. You are not in love, but on stage. The self who copulates is someone you observe and ogle, rating his performance, admiring his power, fearing his failure. The woman is not your lover, but your audience, and your porn persona is alone on stage. Your true self watches from the balcony; a petty critic, alienated and alone.
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