Evolutionary Ears

And I touched his face.
And it was good again.
And he cares. And adores.
And he was feeling insecure.
Oh, he is beautiful. Like art. With those eyes.
Now what do I think? Do I still bring it up?
Or do I just bask? And stare as long as I want. And inhale.

But in the end, will he ever measure up? Will anyone? I feel like I backtracked emotionally. And the uneasiness is back. and the desire in every molecule to just wrap around that comfort. To be taken care of again. To be dependent.

Ah, evolution. I have "good ears". Evolving properly. Advanced. The lobes are detached.
And the same birthmark. Slightly disconcerting.
But a puppy. A lonely puppy. A bad idea to give them to much attention because they will follow you home...

Sputnik Sweetheart

Belarus?
Eastern European glamour.
Like a puppy. A cuddly puppy. Except seductive. A mix of Mick, Mikhail, and Eugene Hutz. Not what I was expecting. Gorgeous. Hard to push his hands away. Harder not to let him come home, per his pleas.

Although, I wasn't expecting this from V either. He is a child after all.
I don't know what scared him. I'm so disappointed. Now what? Confrontation? Or the easy way, just let is dissipate into awkwardness and bitterness. I can't look at him without wanting to touch his face, though.

And then tonight. What am I doing?

I'll be in Maine on Friday. Away from them all. For a bit.

Avenues and Alleyways

Cripes.

The lust is certainly still there, for better or for worse. For better, so far.
Not a stitch of guilt, or even a bad feeling.
The value of comfort and trust is sorely underestimated, and so hard to achieve.
Could get addicting.

Dancing is Dangerous

It pulls muscles, it gives some the wrong idea, but it's a great way to give then the right idea too. Ha.
Another insane party weekend. I feel like I'm in college again or something. However, I think it finally caught up to me because I have a terrible cold and I'm exhausted.

Also, partying on top of extreme anxiety is so hard on the body.
Thursday = rain, galleries, Andrew, free wine, rock and roll show, open bar, drunker than I've been in a long time and the Russian boy is still calling me. Oof.

Friday = more rain, L got here, finally. Obviously has the wrong idea, still. Met up w/ SR in the EV. Yuppies, yuppies everywhere. Didn't get in cuz I'm not 25! F that. See Frank. Go meet up with V. wierd vibes. Suck.

Sat.= I'm sick. I'm grumpy. L is forlorn, per always. But I WILL have fun. Pills help. Party is great. Everyone I want to see. Even V for a few mins. Frank again. So odd. Made some new friends. Danced and danced and danced. Slept cramped but comfy.

Sunday= epic hanging out. L leaves, disapointed. I feel guilty. But what can I do?

I really don't want to like him more than he likes me. Will things normalize?
Dinner with A on Wednesday. I can't wait. So many questions.
Back to waiting by the phone. Will the extra xanaxs help?

Still fucking bitter

Why the fuck do men feel it's necessary (or remotely appropriate) for them to make comments on our bodies? These fucking bastards think they are giving us "compliments". Fuck. Tell me I'm smart, tell me I'm interesting, tell me I'm funny. Don't fucking tell me I've got a "great ass". Who gives them the right? I am not one to side with radicals, but I really think crazy Valerie Solanis was on to something. I wish she wouldn't have taken it out on Andy W. though.



War: The male's normal compensation for not being female, namely, getting his Big Gun off, is grossly inadequate, as he can get it off only a very limited number of times; so he gets it off on a really massive scale, and proves to the entire world that he's a `Man'. Since he has no compassion or ability to empathize or identify, proving his manhood is worth an endless amount of mutilation and suffering and an endless number of lives, including his own -- his own life being worthless, he would rather go out in a blaze of glory than to plod grimly on for fifty more years.

Niceness, Politeness, and `Dignity': Every man, deep down, knows he's a worthless piece of shit. Overwhelmed by a sense of animalism and deeply ashamed of it; wanting, not to express himself, but to hide from others his total physicality, total egocentricity, the hate and contempt he feels for other men, and to hide from himself the hate and contempt he suspects other men feel for him; having a crudely constructed nervous system that is easily upset by the least display of emotion or feeling, the male tries to enforce a `social' code that ensures perfect blandness, unsullied by the slightest trace or feeling or upsetting opinion. He uses terms like `copulate', `sexual congress', `have relations with' (to men sexual relations is a redundancy), overlaid with stilted manners; the suit on the chimp.
-V.S.

bitter

Women have been raising the men of the world since the beginning of time. It's our curse.

And in the end, all a man wants is another mother anyway. Just one he can fuck. If there is one thing I've learned, it's that this is a universal truth.

Better than being bored?

Oh dear God.

Do I attract or create drama? Hard to say.
Apparently my pheromones shout, "make me feel uncomfortable!" and "please, be awkward!"
It's uncanny.

After one meeting, he knows my biggest flaw. The one I just recently admitted too. How do I deal with that? I am absolutely not available for someone like that.

However, am I really available on a convenience basis? I am trying to be, because I think it is all I should be commiting too. When really, I should probably just be dealing with myself. It goes against my nature to act different ways with different people. I hate being forced into it for the sake of social stability. Argh

The whole city feels eery today. I think the conditions are exactly the same as they were 5 years ago.
My stomach feels a little sick.

And then...

One little phone call renews my faith, and I'm excited and have butterflies again. Pathetic.

LI Rules

Apparently a pool party in a flash flood is a wonderful idea!
The most fun I've had in ages.
A 15 hour party. At least 8 hours of dancing. Wrecked my foot (and probably my liver), but it was worth it. And the pool was just warm enough to ignore the rain.
And I made it through with only a kiss to wonder about. Perfect.

Nice talk on the stoop last night. Amazing what a stranger he already seems. I wonder if I appear the same way. So strange not to know him inside and out anymore. Scary in a way. My initial thought of it ever happening again is fading. If he can change so fast, he'll be a completely different person soon. And I probably will too.

Argh, and then there is the string I feel like I'm on. I HATE the feeling. I HATE waiting. I HATE caring. And wondering. From what I understand this is the strife of the single (or semi-single) woman. It's bullshit. But what can I do?
I've been looking around, but I'm too attached, too attracted. Fuck.

Laborless Day

Ah, a long weekend.

Going to a pool party in a flash flood. Wonderful.
At least we are leaving the city for a bit.

I have been reflecting lately. Not too far back, but my existence, my daily life, my confidants have changed so significantly in so short a time. It has gotten better. It is far from over, but looking back, it's so much better. And at the time all I wanted was for time to pass. And it did. And it is. And it's helping.

Apparently I come off as not cuddly, which seems strange since it's my favorite activity. I wish it was more accepted to cuddle with those you are merely friends with. Human contact is such a good feeling.

However, am I getting seduced? Last night I thought so. When did I lose the edge? Something happened. Shit.
I'm extremely concerned. And she warned me. She always does. She always knows.