Sexual Desire - Being a Continuous Being

It should not surpise me that my sometimes narcotic passion for women is in fact deeply interrtwined with my great fear of death. Or that my intensity of passion for women and love and carnal experiences with them it a means of forgetting in womblike preconsciousness the inevitability of my own body's termination. As much as I attempt to temporarily lose myself in that pleasure, at the end, I am still alone. And so is she, though we will lie together and talk and embrace, and think of all the things we have done in our lives and many things yet to come, more such moments like these and many others.

An irony of this sexual union - the interconnectedness of my and her genitals and the perspiration of our passion in the sweat on our faces, the loss of my own self in this ecstasy, the ultimate reproductive culmination of this act wherein I drink the pap of life, the incomparable milk of wonder, the honey dew and milk of sensual paradise - is that the end result would be a baby, and an individual that will grow and be alone and eventually him or herself die one day.

George Bataille writes in "Erotism: Death and Sensuality":

"Reproduction implies the existence of discontinuous beings . . . Each being is distinct from all others . . . He is born alone. He dies alone. Between one being and another, there is a gulf, a discontinuity . . . [D]eath means discontinuity. Reproduction leads to the discontinuity of beings, but brings into play their continuity; that is to say, it is intimately linked with death."