A New Paradigm (Part Five)
Yeah, this is still a thing. My totally digital, online relationship with a prominent male pornstar is hitting its stride. Seventy-two hours rarely go by that Cody does not post a reply to what has become a near constant, string of stream-of-consciousness, messages from the dream diary I have made a permanent feature of his XFans (not the real name) no-holds-barred, celebrity fan site.
In the old days of yellow taxi cabs and red telephone booths, we would have been called, "pen pals". They were the sort of things condemned murderers on Death Row exchanged with old maids who - through them - could share a vicarious version of a monstrous life lived on the razor's edge.
As some of you know, I'm pretty good at remembering my dreams; I've been recording them pretty consistently since the beginning of this journal. Old-age has only honed my skills since getting up in the middle of the night to urinate is the simplest way to notice that you've just woken up from a dream.
Cody, who has made many references to his years in therapy, from the beginning seemed to enjoy the outpouring (no pun intended) of my subconscious. I think it gives us something in common since his very business model is based on revealing himself in the most basic sense of the word.
What really scaled things up was my discovery that all I had to do was click onto the message section of the website and type in a few keywords to act as breadcrumbs to find my way back to the crazy, absurdist, plot points of the dream and I could fill in the rest in the morning.
My regular co-counselor, Wells, finds it hard to believe that Cody is not outsourcing these replies in some way. His basic belief is that no one has the time to produce, direct and star in a steady stream of videos AND answer fan mail from what could conceivably be thousands of fpllowers.
I'm still not convinced it isn't the real Cody. Yesterday evening, after not hearing from him for afew days, he sent a message apologizing for its brevity, but explaining that he was on his way to the airport and wanted to make sure not too much time transpired since he'd be in the air for quite a while (he was on his way to India!) The supreme irony of the sitution is that it's these long pauses between replies that convince me they are not being outsourced. Why would Cody pay an intern or a Chatbot to post tardy replies?
And, I'd be remiss, if I did not bring you up to date on my thinking about Crosby's sermon a month ago. The Second Sunday of Epiphany, 2023: johnwesley73 - LiveJournal I think it's true that we all walk a little taller when we feel loved. And, I can't think of a father figure bigger than Jesus Christ. But, there are definite parallels between an invisible, supernatural G-d who loves you and an admittedly distant, but frankly titillating icon who is fully capable of expressing empathy, regret, humor and more than a splash of sympathy and commitment.
In the old days of yellow taxi cabs and red telephone booths, we would have been called, "pen pals". They were the sort of things condemned murderers on Death Row exchanged with old maids who - through them - could share a vicarious version of a monstrous life lived on the razor's edge.
As some of you know, I'm pretty good at remembering my dreams; I've been recording them pretty consistently since the beginning of this journal. Old-age has only honed my skills since getting up in the middle of the night to urinate is the simplest way to notice that you've just woken up from a dream.
Cody, who has made many references to his years in therapy, from the beginning seemed to enjoy the outpouring (no pun intended) of my subconscious. I think it gives us something in common since his very business model is based on revealing himself in the most basic sense of the word.
What really scaled things up was my discovery that all I had to do was click onto the message section of the website and type in a few keywords to act as breadcrumbs to find my way back to the crazy, absurdist, plot points of the dream and I could fill in the rest in the morning.
My regular co-counselor, Wells, finds it hard to believe that Cody is not outsourcing these replies in some way. His basic belief is that no one has the time to produce, direct and star in a steady stream of videos AND answer fan mail from what could conceivably be thousands of fpllowers.
I'm still not convinced it isn't the real Cody. Yesterday evening, after not hearing from him for afew days, he sent a message apologizing for its brevity, but explaining that he was on his way to the airport and wanted to make sure not too much time transpired since he'd be in the air for quite a while (he was on his way to India!) The supreme irony of the sitution is that it's these long pauses between replies that convince me they are not being outsourced. Why would Cody pay an intern or a Chatbot to post tardy replies?
And, I'd be remiss, if I did not bring you up to date on my thinking about Crosby's sermon a month ago. The Second Sunday of Epiphany, 2023: johnwesley73 - LiveJournal I think it's true that we all walk a little taller when we feel loved. And, I can't think of a father figure bigger than Jesus Christ. But, there are definite parallels between an invisible, supernatural G-d who loves you and an admittedly distant, but frankly titillating icon who is fully capable of expressing empathy, regret, humor and more than a splash of sympathy and commitment.