I have a potty mouth. I grow very aware of this in certain situations. Mostly on the receiving end of the fucks and shits and damns. For some reason, even though I tend to drop them like snow flakes in New York I have a whitewashed puritan streak. My preferences run to chess before monopoly. My ears prefer Cannonball to Coltrane. I love the english language, it's power and it's potential, and it's abuse always offends me.
And yet I recognize these words. Their underlying function. The occasional blue word is often a sobriquette for stronger emotion. An expression of the inexpressable. I recognize the frustration behind fuck. The small voices within us that need to advertise our inadequacies. We often shoot arrows at the things we lack. I feel that our voices raised in protest often use the excuse of free speech or animal rights or bifurcated party slogans because of the impotence of any protest. To improve we would have to be a different species. A kinder race, able to truly empathize without all the effort. We say "crucify him" and mean "fuck this". Language then becomes stinking piles of rhetoric stacked on a mute frustration. Our rigid and benign mottos of our lack of effectiveness.
Sex is a huge subject. I would even theorize that it is so aloof because our approach to it can never be objective. Who can discuss it without a spider web of connotations shrouded from everyone but ourselves? It contains so much of our pain in fear of rejection. Being nude with another. Exposed. Vulnerable. And then how often it gets perverted and abused and somehow diminished by making it a profit motive.
Yet it remains the physical act of entering and being entered. What profound pleasure, what profound metaphor. And yet skin always contains and separates. We are always confined. Can there be any wonder why the most foul and poignant epitaph is fuck? What more frustrating act is there? What in the world can be as painful a reminder of our inherent state of separation than this almost? So close.
And I continue to drop the word like so many mayflies.
Trust me, I know where I'm walking with this but (apropo enough,) can't seem to get it out. FUCK THIS.