Mating

I suppose this is all some disgusting mating activity to you, philosopher.

 

I bet you think of me as a hindrance. As a pest. As a necessary evil to assuage certain of your needs. I’ll bet you hate your needs, don’t you? I’ll bet you wish you had the courage to castrate yourself, just like that. And remove all temptation. Then you could write all day and all night without any disturbance.

 

Is there a philosophy of fucking? There are philosophies of love, I know that. But of fucking?

 

What do you want to do? How do you like it? What are your favourite … positions?