Sex.
The sex is good.
The sex is the best sex I’ve ever had,
and it’s introspective:
What moves in me, deeper than the superstructure of my psychology: the fascination to dominate and penetrate:
Deeper than what my name is and who I am: Deeper than what your name is and who you are:
Life
wants to
reach out to and touch life,
wants to
make life, create life.
Deeper than the superstructure of my identity: this relative construct made for humans that need a construct to communicate with and identify: some thing knowable.
Deeper than the knowable: there is Life.
That uses the life-form as a means to an end,
to spread itself like a fire.
It isn’t about genes selfishly seeking to spread themselves. The genes themselves are a tool: a means to end for this force: this life force to increase itself.
These bodies are but logs. There is a force, a fire of life, that passes from torch to torch for eons. It has nothing to do with the superstructure of my name and identity, nothing to do with my genes: or even with my species.
On this level of self-identity: pure life, I have more in common with bears, and seaweed, and trees, and the earth itself.
That outer form is irrelevant: is but the fodder: the wick, of the living flame of life itself. That is what I am. To know myself as energy: as pure energy: as this life force. That is what sex is. That is tantra, where I can meet myself in you, and know myself as this primordial pure energy.
That is good sex.