Film

Here is a film. And in this film you can watch me very closely. See, there I am, that’s me, crawling around, awkwardly, on the ground like a dog. It’s what I deserve. And I’m lost. You will recognise a forest and it will be dark. Things might be a little difficult to make out. It’s all blurry and night-shot. But I’ve been thrown here. Dumped by a car in the middle of the night by a stranger. There was an agreement. I asked for it. I thought I knew what I was doing. I wanted to know something about pain. About complete abandonment. About fending for yourself. About losing it. About being lost. It’s a survival tactic. With no prizes at the end. And in this film, I’m looking straight at the camera and the guy behind the lense keeps telling me to crawl, keep crawling, on my hands and knees, and tells me to start barking too. I don’t know why but I do. (Barks). I just do what he says. How did I get here? How did I manage to make myself into this slave boy without considering the consequences. So let me tell you a story: it’s about love. It’s about not having it. It’s about wanting to have a sensation that equates with love. Pure love. Have you felt that? Have any of you felt that? Speak now if you can tell me one time in your life that you had that kind of real, untainted, pure love. For something. Anything. This story is about the search for love. To crawl through the dirt like a dog to find some small answer or sign or person, for that matter. And this guy with the camera, well, he’ll do for now. Because he’s documenting something real. He’s capturing an extreme moment of an exchange between two human beings. And I’m happy to take the lowest position in all of this. I want to submit and I’m not saying this story is about submission either. What I’m looking for is not a consensual role-playing scenario – that’s just foreplay. I’m not looking for a story that ends with sleep or post-sex cigarettes. In this story no-one sleeps. No-one eats. No-one indulges in romantic fantasies of the perfect family. Pure love, by nature, is a fucked up place most of us here in this room tonight would only dare to enter. I’m telling you this because I’m not to be taken home. I’m not the kind of man you would introduce to your mother or father. Just like you, I have the face of a killer. Just like you, I’ll probably die some horrible death or be left behind in some hostel with a doctor who might as well just give up. Just like you, I’m on a downward spiral. Like you, I’m on a losing streak. Let’s not pretend. Try, if you can, to just be here for one fucking moment. No winners here tonight. So, I’m not prepared to wait. This story is not about love as you might know it. Pure love is pain. Pure love hurts like fuck. Pure love hates you all so much it wants to wipe every single god-damn one of you out with a shot gun. Sitting in your seats, like that, waiting for me to tell you how it feels to want to do what you might call “bad things”, unacceptable things, unreasonable behaviour. I’m not the kind of person who keeps a home. I’m interested in entering your house, in paying you a visit, sitting you down and showing you this film, of me, crawling through the dirt like a dog.

JASON