The zap of energy paralysis.
The grit of confusion.
Sighs of strained know-how.
Focus is in identity wonderland,
as tiles collapse.
Pushing subconscious worries aside
makes the pull a stronger tide.
The exploration of endless alternatives
exercising indecisive prerogatives.
All these years later, it’s still the same
drawn-out search for a new name.
Musings of Intimacy & Sexuality: an Existential Essay
by M. Haas
What is intimacy and sexuality for an existentialist?
For a few years now, I have been affiliating with existentialism. The primary attitude of the existentialist encompasses the view that each person is his or her own subjective hermeneutic human consciousness. One is always one’s own thinking, acting, feeling, living individual self. While I am one who tends to not feel ‘existentially’ free, I always seek to be honest & authentic, especially of sadness, confusion, and worry in terms of my human experiences with the correspondences of inner and outter absurdities of self and the world.
To me, intimacy and sexuality are supposed to be an essential human accent of meaningful subjective existence that is raw, pure, deep, romantic, sensual, sweet bliss —
an endearing, innocent, vulnerable, virtuous, devotional, sincere, supportive, encouraging, gentle, caressing, healthy experience —
an understanding, accepting, patient, wise, honest, respectful, loyal, lucid, responsible, honorable, creative, authentic, uplifting, invigorating & empowering, warm & compassionate, bold, courageous act of love out of and for wellbeing & integrity of self and mate.
This is insight into what I think intimacy and sexuality genuinely are; this could also be idealism, which is to say most people do not and cannot experience this in intimacy or sex due from the compromising effects of culture upon individuals developing sexual identity and morals.
What is intimacy and sexuality for mainstream American culture?
There are certain ideas, stigmas, and examples that are emulated, advertised, and condoned about intimacy and sexuality in America.
American culture exhibits a profound sexual fixation & obsession encompassing patriarchal and misogynistic views that women are supposed to “fit a mold,” porn is fulfilling, and extortion of women’s bodies is acceptable.
Culture supports degradation and humiliation of the female form, alongside a self-esteem deflating construct of a biased, rejecting nature toward disempowering women who don’t fit the mold. Typical beauty in America is a tan busty long-haired blonde with proportionate hips and waistline, toned skin, no stretch marks, and accenting makeup.
Celebrities, magazines, corporate advertising, and the porn industry distract young girls and women of their own authentic natures and individualities. Culture preys on the naive & innocent, unconsciously– subliminally– manipulating identity & corrupting virtue & wellbeing in both men and women.
I feel like androgyny has to be more of a coping mechanism for most Americans than it is actually their authentic nature.
There is so much sexual confusion and immorality in America –from sexual discrimination to rape, abuse, extortion, to simply overlooking chivalry. Foundational values seem nonexistent because mainstream culture is horrendously partial to what is deemed beautiful and sexy in the first place, and that only the beautiful and sexy are worthy of sex and intimacy. Even then, sex and intimacy are dominantly expressed as nothing more than lustful pleasure, orgasm, and release of sexual fluids… (fucking)… not a deep, romantic, sincere, loyal act out of and for wellbeing and integrity… (loving).
(To my ex-husband)
You were my Vietnam,
My boot camp,
The journey of beginning war.
It had already been going on,
but you secured my enlistment.
You were “Charlie”
and the day the orphanage was bombed.
You were why I had to intercept these signals…
Decrypt all this mess.
You were why I was flying high,
yet still preparing for takeoff.
You were what made me
Strategic Air Command
godspeeding particles of
Top Secret data.
You were Saigon battlefields
I escaped with two fragile elephants.
You were slaps in the face,
The spit of degradation,
The PTSD of living
A little more every day.
You were the metaphorical cycle
of history repeats in offspring:
My three years overseas,
A prisoner of war
You were my Vietnam.
My decree is honorable Air Force discharge.
Now, I’m free —
To fly like the sergeant’s space cadet
This is a short imaginative story I wrote inspired by my fourth ketamine therapy infusion that took place on Martin Luther King Day 2017:
The K Report
by M. Haas
Once upon a time, a glum, lonely snail submerged in a curious parallel world of vibrant foamy banks within the Ketamine Sea. The drear snail began sparkling as her brilliance psychedelicized into inter-dimensional realms of existence. Her shell, once a prosaic, despondent blue funk, nacreously shimmered resonant metallic hues of interstellar glory. She became K-Snail of sanguine spirals leading to propelled disillusions of earthling reality.
K-Snail immersed deeper into the cavernous darkness of esoteric transferences from beyond the wisdom of time. She collapsed the wave function of the inter-dimensional space-time continuum. An extraterrestrial presence amidst this quirky aqueous firmament peered among K-Snail, summoning an inter-dimensional seance of orbs. These are the records K-Snail reported back to Earth:
Your ignorance, indifference, and calloused ways have worn holes in your atmosphere, as well, in your hearts.
The Gaian world of Mother Nature is not complacent with the state of affairs you harbor.
Here are seven billion of you:
fretting, complaining, destroying, claiming namesake, ownership, superiority, inferiority, and all the man-made constructs and social stigmas endowed upon your cultures and identities.
More than ever, there is vast vicissitude attuning in the fate of your species.
Does the color of skin define your being?
Do the religions of your world define belief in your self?
Do sexual acts and orientations define the fertility or impotency of your collective’s character?
Do political abstractions define the wellbeing of your species?
Do monetary constraints and legal proceedings define the essence of your raw blood and individual breaths?
Do media and technology define the level of your communal wisdom?
Are cultural diversions of intellectual de-evolvement spewing your planet’s next dark age or renaissance?
You, as a species, are not divided by race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender, politics, wealth, technology, or a lack of diversity in your civilization.
All of you subjectively affiliate with the above because ALL of you are human beings divided in conscientious perspective.
The collective perception of your selves is plagued by cultural dichotomies and social stigmas nit-picking at the very fiber of your humanness, seeking to degrade character of the individual into zombiesque waves of ego chaos. You are of a world blending acquaintance with pivotal unyielding higher awareness.
The changes of these times are the reflection of how all of you humans collectively perceive humanity. Relinquish the psychodynamic rebellion of ego chaos.
Accept Human. See Human. Be Human.
The ambidextrous era dawns…
And so it was, K-Snail traversed back through the veil of time, returning to human form, wide-eyed and smiling– now prepared to live in pioneering accord with the fine-tunement of Being Human. Once home, she suffused herself in astronomical fluffy fabrics, laid her head upon a star, and slept.
Until the next day finally begins, Godspeed!
If you don’t make any cents,
you must not make any sense.
If you do make cents,
then you must make sense.
So what about if you make sense
that making cents
is a scent you must sense?