Sunday, August 11, 2019

The Clapback on Censorship by Synful Desire

Hey, hey, y'all!
Today I am gonna sit back and enjoy the jargon. I invited author Synful Desire to my blog today and she didn't let me down. Enjoy, everyone! I know I will.

Since this is Sunday, I’d consider it some Soul Speak. Perhaps I’m letting off a little steam. However, if it is more the latter, being at Miss Y’s for a slice of apple pie and a glass of cold organic milk is an ideal spot.

You see, I was thinking about her work Peter Blade. The serial killer had trauma and reasoning behind the things he did. Not that I agree with it, but I understand. Yet, this serial killer makes more sense than the villainy of the erotica genre.

Erotica is painted out as a villain, even as it sits in the shadows not doing anything wrong. There’s an age restriction on erotica, so kids have no business even looking at it in the first place. Yet, there’s this all-out war against the genre, so much so, that you find it in mainstream spots less and less.

Yes, some of the writers (I don’t dare deem those types authors) are putting out garbage that I wouldn’t even read. Yet, putting visual and reading quality aside, I don’t think it is fair that one genre is singled out, like it’s the Scarlet Letter of Literature.

I think erotica can serve as an educational tool. One can spice up the boredom in the bedroom. One can learn something new that can take sensual skills to the next level. One can explore fantasies in the mind that one doesn’t have the bravery to exhibit publicly. Or, indulging in something steamy can take the mundane out of the every day.

Despite dabbling into other genres, erotica marks my origins. It is where I feel the most at home. It is where I am the most free. I have never restricted erotica to be a cauldron of coition and cuss words. Erotica is an art, and it takes place even before the physical begins.

It is the mind which navigates the direction of the body. This is why what is appealing to one person is not so much to another. If erotica was solely a bastard of the physical denouement of sexual contact, then all experiences would mimic each other continuously.

I don’t know about the rest of you but I find that extremely boring. Erotica is as simple or as complex as the individual makes it to be. I confess that the right scent on a man stimulates me more than seeing a penis picture on my phone. Although men are classified as “one track minded” creatures as it pertains to arousal, there are many dimensions and kinks to them as well.

Positive satiation is a natural state. It should be celebrated not censored. It’s sad how gung ho society is to permit violence to the point of desensitization but the sight of sensual connectivity is anarchy.

What happened to “Make Love Not War”?

Amoresels brings me back to my erotica roots. I classify the flash fiction collection as “the stimuli you don’t realize you’re craving”. From daydreaming gone wild to out-of-this world situations, Amoresels is packed with the unexpected.

I hold nothing back, and I know this won’t be for everybody. In response to that, I will say this. Every artist comes to a point in her career where she does a selfish work, one that has to be done for herself. A writer is an artist of literature, and even we have those moments. Amoresels is my selfish work.

Until next time,