◊ Can you tell me what are your most important desires?
Could I name them? I could but I’d rather not, because putting them in order would mean, that inevitably, I’d categorise them hierarchically and that is not serving my following fascinating-to me-hypothesis.
I have the suspicion that there is truly only one desire that manifests itself in uncountable ways, often appearing under disguise seeking ways for physical/intellectual/emotional etc. pleasure and fulfilment. Could I name it? I want to but I can’t.
The way though I’m treating my desire, apart from revealing for the nature of desire itself, is what in my opinion makes all these different manifestations of desire important. Through that prism there is no such thing as one desire more important than an other.
Once upon a time two people fulfilled their sexual desire and life has been created. Another time someone seeking for auditory pleasure composed an extraordinary piece of music. In some place else someone desired to taste human flesh, he invited someone he met on the internet for dinner, he cut off his cock, cooked it and then they enjoyed their dinner together. (This is the true story of Armin Meiwes known as “Der Metzgermeister” who had his victims’ total consent by the way).
Seeking fulfilment, pleasure in all possible ways through all of our senses could be the impetus of our very own existence and aren’t we all in the end the product of someone else’s desire? Very powerful, huh? There comes responsibility, I’m shocked!
My pretty charming existential crisis. I think, the importance we’re giving to our desire is highly linked with the realisation of our mortality, it is linked with motive, desire would have infinite possibilities to be met but it would probably fade in an endless repetition towards eternity. How a religious belief promising the afterlife shapes the way people perceive and treat their desire is a good example, I think.
Does the realisation of my physical death change the way I’m treating my desire? Obviously, but can I bear it, do I accept the inevitable of my physical death or do I rebel against it and driven by a false sense of control I self-destruct? And what about the echo after my disappearing?
The way I’m treating my desire will determine my very own experience of life (and not only mine). I can be completely neurotic about it, anorexic, adopting a stoic way of living, denying my own nature, refusing to feed my self/desire until I starve to death, metaphorically and/or literally. And isn’t it anyway the desire not to desire a desire itself? I could be bulimic as well, I could shove desire down my throat only to throw it up back. Guilt is very acidic and addictive, I have been tasting it a lot, my stomach has been through a lot. And it’s not about morality, it is a very bitter feeling of regret. You can not pretend that consequences do not exist and that time is not limited. You consume your desires uncontrollably until in one point you get consumed by them.
That doesn’t mean of course I don’t allow myself to be dragged on a leash by my desire, metaphorically or not, but I am trying to keep a balance. There are times I’m struggling between depression, apathy, anhedonia and being extremely overwhelmed, hyper-sexual/active and hypo-manic. I don’t think the answer lays only in discipline. Though I find great interest in testing my discipline, I can be as disciplined in fasting as much as in drinking to death.
Sometimes I feed myself with raw vegetables, some other times with mud. Eventually it will all end up in shit and poetically speaking, using a literally shitty metaphor, much like if I was gardening, I want pleasure to be a good nutritious fertiliser for the garden of my earthly, and as well unearthly, delights.
(continues on pages 2 and 3)