Wish List To 2015


2015 started with a great feeling, collective enthusiasm and even a lil wind of magic that we hadn’t breathed in a long time. The fun was ruined after a week (#JeSuisCharlie), but hopefully all the bad karma of the year got concentrated in January. It can only get better.

I maintain the optimism and hunger for change and declare that 2015 will be the year of activism, international artistic networking, emotional sex and customised sweaters. Oh yeah!

I’m throwing a bunch of desires in the stratosphere with the following dream list – nothing to do with a “resolution list” or a “to do list” (Bwargh for both). Dream lists actually work out. When I look back at my old ones, I realise that I’ve checked most of the items, but not in the way or timeframe which I had originally imagined. So FYI all the below will get real somehow. Let’s review it in a year.

#1. Fall in love CHOOSE love* with a girl who has an even bigger hair than me and who doesn’t need to be saved. Tell her “It’s the coolest thing in the world to be your girl!”

*My therapist tells me off about ‘falling in love’ because she says that if I fall it will smell of mind fuck pattern again

#2. Put together a burlesque number with intellectual content and empowering message and perform under the stage name “Magnolia Marshmallow” or “Moira Moist”. With that extra cash, hire a PA a few hours per month to do my boring life admin (e.g. returning my unwanted gifts to Amazon, hanging my laundry)

#3. See beyond the Western World: travel to Naoshima, the Japanese Island dedicated to contemporary art where you can sleep in a room with famous art pieces. Go for a 5 Rhythms or Gaga workshop* in Israel (depending on how much it sucks at the time)

*Gaga is a genius movement language for contemporary dancers created by the Israeli choreographer Ohad Naharin

#4. Have an emotional 1-2-1 with a man to see if emotion changes anything

#5. If #4 is successful, have an emotional 1-2-2 with men, just like that because I can and I want to try everything in life as long as it is harmless

#6. Quit corporate and study at the Hacker Academy in Budapest. Join Anonymous to help prevent terrorist propaganda online. OR alternatively, quit corporate to do a PhD about human desire and question the concept of sexual orientation. The more I hang out with queer creatures, the more I start believing that sexual attraction is some kind of unpredictable energetic algorithm that doesn’t really depend on anatomy. Of course, we have a dominant gender in our field of attraction, but it is deeper than that. I don’t believe either that “everyone is bisexual”. I think we are only at the very beginning of the research on fantasies, human desire and human sexual psyche. This unknown territory fascinates me. I want to go and meet creatures and listen to them, write about them and bring their voice in the academic world. Either way, quit corporate.

#7. Dance more, always more

#8. Learn how to draw without losing my personal touch (see picture below) and make storyboards for Dadaist movies based on my own life and the life of my extraordinary friends

#9. Sell the shares I own in the company I’ll soon quit to become a hacker or a Doctor in human desire (see #6) and with the money I get from the stock market, launch a film production company with H to produce the Dadaist movies based on my own life etc. (see #8)

#10. Move to New York fucking finally

#11. Organise myself a writer’s residency in New Orleans. Hang out with the queers, the drags and the creatures all night and all day and feature them in film scripts and in academic research. Productive deal

#12. Become the chieftain of the Lesbian Sex Mafia (self-explanatory New York-based group) in London

#13. Go and kiss Mother Iceland. I haven’t felt her heartbeat in way too long

#14. Make this blog famous. Not to be famous, just to get more cool friends to collaborate with. Invite all the artists who read me and their artist friends who don’t read me yet to contribute to it by illustrating a post in whatever way they want. Turn the Human Disco into an international artistic collaboration platform

#15. Laugh even more at everything. Especially if it is not funny


(Lesbian) Sex (Mafia) & The City


First Play Party in New York on Saturday night/Sunday morning.

It was called ‘Submit’, was organized by the Lesbian Sex Mafia group for women & trans and took place in a basement in Brooklyn.

It is always exciting to arrive at a Play Party, because it is entering an underworld, a secret society. It is not advertised publicly and the venues are kept hidden. There was no way anyone would guess what kind of crazy stuff was going on inside this building unless they were part of the Mafia.

The venue was just dodgy enough, dark and organized as a maze. All the private booths had holes for voyeurism, which was more than half the fun. The usual BDSM rooms with crazy equipment (which I tend to keep away from) were hosting a wide spectrum of creatures.

Girls girls girls everywhere, of every style shape size age color femininity masculinity. There is so much diversity in this world that it becomes overwhelming when you are gender-fascinated. When you see such a clear sample of the rainbow range of the sexual identities concentrated in the same space, it gets so obvious that there are way more than 2 sexes.

I was one of the first to get some action going. Why not? It was strange. She was a little Asian girl playing dominant but who was awkward and kept apologizing, which made me way more dom than her because I always stay cool and in control even though I often inadvertently end up as the sub. There are many ways to be dominant beyond bottom/top, and mine is to trust and let go. How can one pretend to be dominant if they are themselves afraid of losing control? She was into strangling. I said OK why not, strangle me. There is nothing I frankly say no to, so then I end up laughing a lot. I can’t say I liked or didn’t like it, it was “interesting” and released my nerves until next time.

Then I wandered and watched the creatures for the rest of the night. A very tall girl whom I thought was a trans caught my eye, because she looked like a drag-queen (my ultimate fantasy). But I think she wasn’t. It is fascinating to read people’s story from the history of their body or the way they dress and present themselves.

I got my usual down after a few hours. It always happens when I am alone in a crowd, especially a type of crowd which can be disturbing when you feel lonely. But altogether there is support and good spirit in those events, like a human fishnet that prevents you from falling. People are kind. More caring than in the outside world because they live up their life and have therefore less animosity inside them.

I had a moment of sorrow because I still miss her and I fight that back with everything I have, but sometimes I run out of strategies or will. The DJ chose that moment to play Björk’s “All is Full of Love” and it was a strange contrast to wander those dark corridors with that tune in the background covered up with the sound of spanking, screaming, whipping.

I believed in it more than in any other context. Yes, all is full of love and all our regular or strange practices are on the path to our giant search for love. Most of us are fighting this secret battle.

Then, I met J². I had been looking at her all night and I dived my eyes into hers a few times, but she didn’t seem responsive. Towards the end of the party, she finally talked to me. I thought she was the sexiest prettiest girl of the night, one of those boyish girls with beautiful face whose blurry gender stings my imagination.

I don’t know how one of the first questions she asked me was: “Are you heart-broken?” which took me by surprise because 1/ I didn’t bring the subject 2/ you rarely hear that in a sex party 3/I am uncertain of the answer.

I had to think. I said “No… but it’s been hard”. It stunned me that she saw beyond. She said not to worry “because you are beautiful”. I replied thanks but if beauty was solving anything or cure pain we would know. We talked for a while. The venue was closing. I wrote my Fuckbook contact on her hand as she doesn’t have a phone (I like this.) She hugged me to say bye – our lips touched but it would have ruined everything to kiss her now although she’s the only girl I’ve been drawn to kissing in a long time.

I told her not to wash her hands.