The Case of the Quagmire
There's a girl in my Writing Fiction class. She gives me a bit of trouble. Tuesday night I had a dream about her - erotic dream about her - one that left me feeling oh-so-unfulfilled. I talked about it on Wednesday when I consulted Deb Thaler on another psychological quagmire that I've fallen into, mentioned it to Dr. Bluhm, told My Darling Girl while we were drowning together over the phone. So much is breaking down right now, so much feels untapped - potential energy stores collecting behind the scenes. I am too often begotten with crisis that I have unfortunatly become accustomed to it. If my life or the life of those around me isn't going wrong, I don't feel right. At present, all crises seem localized and managable - yet I still feel not quite myself.
Relationships have been wavering lately and I have the premonition of things going wrong behind the scenes, out of my reach. Men who withdraw into themselves like hermit crabs, women too emotional and committed to allow it. I'm reminded of Little Bo Peep "Leave them alone and they'll come home, so on and so forth". It sounds cliched, and it is, but it's also happening and anyone who's had the fortitude to wade through a Hallmark movie or Lifetime special presentation has a inkling of intuition about where these things end up. My recent nocturnal communion with a certain...Runner...has been all that's mildly stimulated my unconventional sensibilities about sex and gender. She isn't happy either though so we have to agree that she hasn't quite gotten it right either. I'm by myself with baggage and pseudopathology, but still maintaining a functional bliss which keeps me sated.
Valentine's Day come and went. It was a day like any other, though with a somewhat louder ticking of biological clocks in concert. 'Nuff said.
Right now, with the spiraling descent of those around me and the relative calm I'm experiencing, I have begun to think that it's time. Time to get into the game, try love for myself...again...perhaps more genuinely than I have in the past. My fear and real knowledge of the harm men and women can inflict upon one another is still close, but I can bypass it with a stray hope that maybe all relationships aren't doomed. I've seen fire, rain, and soggy ashes - but I've also glimpsed something beautfil and wistful that I want. I don't know how it'll help or hurt me, still I crave.
Thursday, Guys Night Out. Time to start the weekend and see what's around the next bend on the road. I'm looking forward to it and for a brief time, not looking behind to see the wreckage in my wake.
Relationships have been wavering lately and I have the premonition of things going wrong behind the scenes, out of my reach. Men who withdraw into themselves like hermit crabs, women too emotional and committed to allow it. I'm reminded of Little Bo Peep "Leave them alone and they'll come home, so on and so forth". It sounds cliched, and it is, but it's also happening and anyone who's had the fortitude to wade through a Hallmark movie or Lifetime special presentation has a inkling of intuition about where these things end up. My recent nocturnal communion with a certain...Runner...has been all that's mildly stimulated my unconventional sensibilities about sex and gender. She isn't happy either though so we have to agree that she hasn't quite gotten it right either. I'm by myself with baggage and pseudopathology, but still maintaining a functional bliss which keeps me sated.
Valentine's Day come and went. It was a day like any other, though with a somewhat louder ticking of biological clocks in concert. 'Nuff said.
Right now, with the spiraling descent of those around me and the relative calm I'm experiencing, I have begun to think that it's time. Time to get into the game, try love for myself...again...perhaps more genuinely than I have in the past. My fear and real knowledge of the harm men and women can inflict upon one another is still close, but I can bypass it with a stray hope that maybe all relationships aren't doomed. I've seen fire, rain, and soggy ashes - but I've also glimpsed something beautfil and wistful that I want. I don't know how it'll help or hurt me, still I crave.
Thursday, Guys Night Out. Time to start the weekend and see what's around the next bend on the road. I'm looking forward to it and for a brief time, not looking behind to see the wreckage in my wake.