Sometimes I hear the world discussed as the realm of men. This is not my experience. I have watched men fall to the ground like leaves. They were swept up as memories, and burned. History owns them. These men were petrified in both senses of the word: paralyzed and turned to stone. Their refusal to express feeling killed them. Anachronistic men. Those poor, poor boys.
Women deformed by the pornographic sexual template perceive other women as masturbatory objects.
Sex has, through being photographed, become a thing to be observed, to be performed, rather than experienced so deeply that it is unnecessary even to open one’s eyes.
