Sometimes it feels as though I’ve lived countless lives, having seen and experienced it all.
Other moments it seems as though I haven’t lived at all, as if my memories have been
erased during a sudden reboot of my mind. They say the only certainty we have is the
present moment, always intense and pure, but at times, it’s seriously overwhelming. We are
ever-evolving versions of ourselves, constantly changing with each passing day.
“I distrust linearity, but bodies can sometimes seem linear—aging, growing and then
shrinking, eventually leading to death. Yet, there’s a reason to appreciate the transitioning
body, which ages backward, making each person seem younger, with or without taking
hormones. It serves as a reminder that the body was never linear to begin with. And anyhow,
when wasn’t my desire pubescent? I didn’t know what I wanted until I had it, which was
simply to feel different. And when I swung a hammer, my inner forearm landing against a
new, warm shape, I tired more quickly, and was happier for it.” 1
Eleven stations from home, you approached me with confidence, asking, or rather
announcing, „You’re cute, can I kiss you?“ You already knew my answer, leaning in
expectantly. I yearn to taste the vulnerability you hold. The fear of losing oneself, of
vanishing while in pursuit of finding something more…
„…love this one feeling, it only happens to you when you’re out in the cold, when you’re
down, this shiver attempts to warm you up, bring you back. For a moment you get this
weird, eerie distant feeling like it’s just for you, you get taken out of yourself.” 2
Within this temporary utopia, our dance floor, where bodies entwine and identities emerge,
lies a profound understanding of the distinction between silence and the inability to
communicate through words. There are moments when I choose silence, recognizing that
sometimes words become dissonant, failing to provide solace or alleviate the burdens we
carry. Why speak when words feel empty, unable to offer comfort? In those moments,
silence holds more meaning than any spoken phrase. In that silence, I am present, always
listening, always observing, even if I may not comprehend every word spoken.
„We’re investigating the language of the present from the perspective of the utopic, which is
an exploration of difference, and the only way we can find to this language takes us through
each other.“ 1
Words will never be enough. They are fragments, inadequate to encapsulate the depth and
complexity of this realm. And so, we dance, we create, we come together. On our dance
floors, we celebrate the indescribable, reveling in the knowledge that some things can only
be felt, experienced, and embraced. I see the way you speak about me, the whispers that
linger in your gaze. It serves as a reminder of the vast divide between us, the growing gap
that separates our understanding. You step closer, I run further. Don’t touch me, it means
too much. Every touch is too much, for the weight is too much to bear. Can’t you hear them
whisper one another’s touch? (3)
I’ve heard that pain and pleasure go hand in hand. But they forget to mention that pain is
merely a pathway to deeper pleasure (4). And so, I’m drawn to the slow dance, the languid
rhythm that pulls me into a trance. With each deliberate step, my hips trace wide circles,
mirroring the swirling emotions within me. Slowly and intentionally, I immerse myself in this
captivating tempo, longing to watch you move, to dance with you, to lick your throat in a
gesture of unspoken connection.
In my dreams, you were always there, your body adorned with glistening drops of sweat, an
embodiment of sensuality. It was in those visions that I discovered the allure of intimacy, the
power of a slow and intense connection. Purple lights washed over us, illuminating our
intertwined forms, as sore feet and wild thoughts melded together, creating an insatiable
thirst to be present. The music dictated our shifting tempos, while our racing hearts and
damp hands spoke volumes of desire.
What distinguishes love from friendship when the world, with its hate and rejection, stands
against us? You hold the power of choice, the privilege of deciding whether to accept, like,
or love me. I don’t, I don’t get to choose. My worthiness is determined by your judgment,
and my existence hinges on your acceptance. As you grapple with fear and uncertainty,
taking your time, I, already deemed unworthy, fade away into a different space, seeking
refuge in the ambiguity of the dance floor. You engage in discussions about us, dissecting
and analyzing our lives, yet you will never truly experience the isolation of being the sole
representative at a table, in a room, a class, on a street, or in a park. You glance around and
see reflections of yourself, while we must search and seek, torn between the safety of
solitude and the dangers of visibility. Am I visible enough for us to recognize one another?
Or am I too visible, left vulnerable to exploitation, subject to scrutiny and constant
discussion?
Pleasure finds me when I am able to release both my physical and mental self
simultaneously. While my body may not conform to societal ideals, it remains strong,
requiring extensive care and maintenance. My mind often bears the burden of shame and
self-doubt, partly imposed by others but mostly self-inflicted. The way we define pleasure
evolves as we ourselves change, navigating through time and space, continually shaping
and reshaping our identities each day. Pleasure is never stagnant; it is always in motion,
evolving alongside us. This brings to mind the term „queer“ and how we employ it both as a
political expression and a means of self-description. Its definition remains fluid, perpetually
existing in a state of flux and reconstruction. Despite the relentless attempts of big
companies to co-opt queerness and align it with a system of neoliberal capitalism, they will
never truly possess it. Similarly, pleasure cannot be commodified, as its essence transcends
material acquisition, encompassing both collective and individual understandings of itself.
On our dance floors, we navigate a landscape shaped by choice, privilege, and the weight
of societal expectations. It is a world where our identities intersect, where our desires and
dreams intertwine. As we dance to the rhythm of our own truths, we strive to carve out
spaces where visibility, acceptance, and understanding prevail—a sanctuary where the
power of choice is shared, and our voices are heard, appreciated, and celebrated.
Platonically heartbroken, longing for a connection that slips away.
„There are all these mysteries to a body. Why, or how. This sense that I’m an experiment,
that I am coming together. That I need someone else to tell me about me. Within the
parameters of myself, it has always been what is unknown, actually, that most bleeds into
my other dimensions. That is present.“ 1
Everywhere becomes a part of the here and now, collapsing the boundaries of space. The
sea doesn’t speak to me. The only thing I was ever jealous about was other people’s
happiness. I know there is a craving that cannot be satiated by mere physical pleasures.
The desire runs deeper, reaching beyond the realm of the flesh, seeking fulfillment on a
different level we can not reach with rationality.
No one holds dominion over me. I possess infinite agency over my body, and the regrets
that haunt you cannot define me. I stand resolute and unyielding.
The beauty lies not in a final description, but in the inability of words to fully capture its
essence. And so we turn to the dance floor, this indescribable amalgamation of emotions
and experiences. It exists because the indescribable demands recognition, a validation of
its significance.
Sources:
1 – Time Is the Thing a Body Moves Through, T Fleischmann, 2019, Coffee House Press
2 – Burial in Wire interview with Mark Fisher, 2012
https://www.thewire.co.uk/in-writing/interviews/burial_unedited-transcript
3 – The Undercommons: Fugitive Planning & Black Study, Fred Moten, Stefano Harney,
2013, Autonomedia
4 – Tove Lo, Cool Girl, 2016 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XsFneCExrCQ
Sexological Bodywork with Gilles 