Leil-Zahra Mortada

making noise, and more noise

Don’t Pay Valentine, Pay Me!

My beloved Valentine, do not give me chocolates and roses, I’d be happier with a 20-euro bill! Let’s play things the way they truly are. If you are going to pay, pay me! I am the one doing the work in the end.

Habibi, I have no liking for roses full-of-pesticides, grown in greenhouses and flown all over the suffocating planet! I have no interest in corporate chocolate or the sugar of exploitation farms. And definitely not that sweatshop teddy bear.

Our love is worth much more than that. Maybe homemade Baba Ghanouj (with extra garlic) served in bed next Friday? A pair of socks you’d knit me and leave on my bed in March? Or some olive oil you shoplifted last week from that posh and overpriced organic deli shop on the corner that we hate so much? Or maybe a video of you masturbating (hint hint)?

1779782_10151922522508093_1557579758_nKiss me and unlearn that we only exist through Mr. Prince Charming. Show me that we are not some incomplete mass of dependency waiting to collapse into some “better half”.

Fuck the idea that love is suffering out of me, and un-sing all those “love” songs of self-annihilation. Lick away the idea that love is pain. Let us reclaim pain, if we choose to, in a consented game between the empowered and equal partners we are.

Make love to me, learn and teach me that no means no.  Show me that you can kiss my neck and rub my ass how I like it, and feel the strength to stop my hand from touching you where you don’t want to be touched.

Suck this dependency out of me, and let me love you into an autonomous and self-sufficient self. Touch me down there and excite my self exploration wetting my independence. Hold me through my ups and downs, but learn to let go when I need space for myself, or when I am loving or fucking someone else… or when you simply want to watch a movie alone.

Download my heart, rip the cds of my love, copy and share. Let’s turn our orgasm into a public torrent. Be that anti-virus for our jealousy and insecurities as we infringe on the emotional and sexual copyright every step of the way.

Format my heart and fix the bugs on it. Install that open-source operating system. Show me that loving someone else doesn’t make you love me any less. Sing with me a million love songs, some for you, some for me, some for the tribe of lovers I hope you and I will have. Let’s sacrifice in supporting each other, not abolishing ourselves.

Join me in building a relation that challenges monogamous divine comedies. Let’s dare to end things when they should end. There is nothing more honorable than the merciful and conscious euthanasia of love. Let’s find the strength and the wisdom to evolve in our relations, to re-shape them, and to re-define them as we see fit.

Take me away from civilized human patriarchy and let’s descend into the carnal and emotional anarchy.  Let’s riot in and out of bed. Let’s make a crime-against-the-system out of our love. Let´s love each other, and fuck each other, in ways that make this system tremble in its military boots.

Amor mio, today on Valentine’s go have dinner with your mom, and I will grab a sandwich and go to bed early in an act of dissidence.

Long live those who are challenging the dictatorship of “Love” every day of the year by loving their own way, by inventing and re-inventing love. By reclaiming and occupying their own bodies, their own relationships, their own sexuality(ies), their own gender(s) and facing up to the stigma, marginalization and continuous attempts to indoctrinate us.

Long live those who are married to themselves and those who are in love with themselves and are proud of it.

Long live those who cherish informed consent. Those who are examining and challenging subjugation in their love lives. Long live those whose backs are hairy with independence, whose armpits smell of the sweet sweat of autonomy.

Long live those who are not afraid of rejection, those who know that there are million ways and a thousand forms for two, or three, or ten people to be together.

Long live those who do not feed the insecurities of their loved ones, those who dare to be vulnerable.

Long live those who are challenging power dynamics in their relationships, questioning their privileges, and working to destroy them.

Long live those who are selling love and/or sex without hiding it into velvet marketing strategies masquerading corporate profit, social norms and state laws.

Long live those who are re-interpreting pain and humiliation into a consented game of sexual pleasure and emotional growth.  Those who freely choose their fetishes, who explore their limits and respect limits with courage and love.

Long live those who are breaking monogamous confinements beyond the borders of the marriage institution be it gay or straight, religious or civil.

Long live anarchist queer love. Long live the free ones wherever they are.

Long live those who are creating and procreating new forms, new ways, and imagining new horizons to explore.

Love, if you are going to pay, don’t pay the system, buy love and sex from me! Shall we discuss what’s on the menu and the price list?

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