Archive for June 7, 2009

Mystery

About 7 years ago I nearly date raped a girl. I remember crying on the phone trying to apologize. At the time I had a kinda uppity attitude about the thing, I thought well I’m not like other guys, I’m sensitive, I’m in touch with women. I understand them. I must be ya know like close to the perfect guy. Except of course very few of them wanted me.

When I first began sleeping with guys about a year ago I was amazed. I completely couldn’t understand their desire, it was alien remote from another world. Like their pyschologies, I couldn’t quite get them, they didn’t get me I didn’t get them. I was stranded between the genders, remote from women by experience, alienated from men by socializing. I was locked in myself, there was no external person only closed in interests and relations via the material world (i.e. intellectual pursuits, video games, magic the gathering etc). The former still being my main way of relating to people. But what struck me was the respect, the way they didn’t seem to be looking down on me, the sex wasn’t sleazy, I wasn’t dominated, I was a queen with her subjects, in control of the situation, my suitors trying to please me.

What occurs to me now is that ironically because my heterosexuality isn’t formed around giving pleasure, but rather on identification, it actually somehow is worse than the typical heterosexuality, it drives me to desperation, to push the boundaries of what to others would be friends. It was my own assurded belief that I was the better suitor that made the worse.

June 7, 2009 at 3:19 pm Leave a comment

Two Dreams

Last night I dreamed of my sister. I was at a kathoey beauty pagneat with this african-american guy from a different dream of a house. Afterwards we get on a bus & go to this stadium. We meet these two white guys he sells pot to. He leaves and the guys are nice. They want to smoke some pot. I go outside. The kathoey bus has arrived, it is snowing, the parking lot is covered in white sheets. My sister is in one of the windows, we sit on the trunk of a car and talk.

I have to many dreams to count. I am a secret agent in an office building. Multiple die, but we keep going back in time to restage the dream to a suitable conclusion. My sister works in the building. She goes into the bathroom or something (a small one toilet addendum to an account’s cramped officed of laptops). An assassin comes in to kill her, I manage to get in the way. Later we walk over the dust fields of mars.

June 7, 2009 at 3:01 pm Leave a comment


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