Category: Words

An imaginary conversation about inviting a man over

So you have a second date with that guy? That’s cool!

Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.

What are you going to do?

We’re going to have lunch and drinks, and then hang out at my place.

No. Bad idea.

Yes. Good idea.

Are you nuts?

Yes, but it has nothing to do with inviting someone over

What if he’s an axe murderer?

If you saw how skinny he is, you wouldn’t be so worried.

It has nothing to do with size.

Really? I thought size was important…

It’s not funny! I don’t want you do do this! You can’t just trust someone you have only met one time.

How many times do I have to meet someone before I can trust them? Would he be more trustworthy after 5 dates?

You are avoiding the point on purpose. It would be safer to meet in a public place.

We did. And I ascertained that he isn’t likely to be a psycho…and that I can physically kick his ass if I need to.

What are you going to do that you can’t do in public anyway?

Do you really want me to answer that?

Yeah. What is it you want to do that you can’t do in a pub or at the movies?

Suck his cock. They get really mad if I do that in the pub. I checked.

Be serious!

You don’t think I should suck his cock at the pub, do you?

What is wrong with you?

Oh, a lot of stuff. So, you disagree that it would be better if I took him to my place to suck his cock?

Oh my God. You have lost your mind!
NO.

You’re probably right.

Thank you. I can’t believe you were even considering it.

I should really just fuck him instead. If I suck his cock first, he might not be able to follow through on all of our planned activities.

You’re killing me.

What? It’s true.

Can’t you just tell me to mind my own business like a normal person?

Apparently not.

OK OK. I have learned my lesson. But you’re kidding about this, right?

Seriously?

Yes.

I think you need to review that lesson you said you just learned.

Come on–just tell me!

What part? The part about fucking?
Did I mention that I asked him to bring a friend? You can come over and watch if you are worried about my safety. I’ll have to ask him how he feels about that, he might not be into voyeurs…

Do not do this. Do not.

What was that about minding your own business?

I will, I promise. I learned my lesson. This time I really mean it.

Good.

But you’re kidding about the friend, right?

Good night, Nosey Nellie.

Kidding?

Hanging up now.

Good night.

So, did you want me to text you when he leaves and let you know how big his dick is?

Oh my God! Stop!

I can’t help it now.

No. No more details. No matter what I ask you.

Deal. Wait, do you think I should ask him to shave his balls before he comes over?

Stop! Stop!

Sweet dreams…

I’ll never sleep again.

Thanks for being worried though. Really.

The devil in me

This was my very first thought the other morning just before the alarm went off:

If you spell devil backwards, it’s lived

Then the alarm went off and scared the devil right out of me like it always does. Why is it that it is always such a shock? I’m usually waiting for it.

Here’s the thing, though. I don’t believe in the devil. I don’t know that I even believe in evil as anything but a construct to explain particularly awful human behavior. Which there is plenty of. Clearly no one wants to think that we HUMANS are causing all of this misery and destruction. It must be someone else’s fault. Something else’s fault…what if there was a Big Bad who was responsible for all of it? That would be AWESOME. In a very bad way. STILL. A scapegoat for evil–what’s not to like?

So poof! Then there was a devil. Or devils, depending on your own particular spin on things.

And then the devil made me stay up late singing with Paddy, and chatting with the Doctor about online dating. So I couldn’t finish writing anything coherent about humans creating a devil and pinning the blame on it for everything that goes wrong.

Pity. It probably would have been interesting. It was a good idea.

Did the devil really make me do it? Nah. No such thing.

I just like singing with Paddy and chatting with Ky-ul.
No devils needed.

Reality

“We all live in a kind of continuous dream,” I told him. “When we wake, it is because something, some event, some pinprick even, disturbs the edges of what we’ve taken as reality.”
–Jeff Vandermeer/Annihilation

The other morning I woke up to the sound of a doorbell. I looked at the clock, fuzzy-brained, and it was too early for it to be a friend to be at the door. I considered going to the door to see, but I knew that by the time I put clothes on and went out to see if anyone was there whoever it might have been would be gone. I snuggled back under the covers and wondered if I had dreamt it or if it was real.

Then I wondered what I had been dreaming.

Either way, it was real enough to have woken me up.

Reality is in the eye of the..what would you call it? The beholder? Considerer? Imaginer? Is anything that triggers your brain to hear it, smell it, taste it, see it real?

I’ve hallucinated demons. It felt like they were really there. My body responded as if they were real. I’ve had a telepathic conversation in French with a black Lab. That was very real to me, as real as his two owners who were standing there with him. I’ve heard leaves talking to me, and melted into a stair rail. I’ve had sex with angels and human beings which definitely felt real.

Real?

What is?

Are feelings real, or only things?

How do you really know if anything is real given how convincing a hallucination or dream can be?

I wonder if I watched one too many TED Talks about Neuroscience this weekend?