When you allow yourself to feel sex completely, you feel two things. On the one hand, your genitals are engorged, your chest is heaving, and your passions are inflamed. You've been there before and nothing fundamental has resulted. Eventually you realize that nothing specific is missing from your sexual life. The truth is, every sexual moment is empty.
Every moment is empty, insubstantial, unreal.
And every moment is full, tangible, explosively alive. Like a vivid dream, each moment is intensely impactful, spontaneously dynamic, and instantly gone, as if it never occurred. Sex can be tender, a miracle of love, yet vaporously inconsequential, a wistful deja vu. Naive youth gets lost in the brief rush of pleasure. The truth is that every moment is tangibly insubstantial.