Opticycle

The email i won’t write, i mean send.

Ring around the rosey, pocket full of posey. Ashes, Ashes, sometimes we all fall down.

I enjoy getting verbal blow jobs and all, and public ones too, but seriously: if they don’t have some sort of action to back them up you might as well go back to Mexico where the internet you is just as good as the San Francisco you. I mean, come on. City kids are assholes, I know that and I don’t expect anything out of them. But you? YOU?????

The last time you were in town you were having an existential crisis because right after not making the Olympics by 2 100ths of a second, (2 100ths and 25 life years), you started dating that guy you slept with on Halloween. ON HALLOWEEN. Okay, okay, I’ll give it to you. I started dating a guy I slept with after I met him on Halloween, which basically is like sleeping with someone on Halloween but not being as ambitious about it. But the point, is that you started dating this guy, and living in MY CITY, and I never saw you until you were at wits end and about to jump off a cliff or wipe your dripping mascara on a bus person’s arm. We’d have tea and massage each other, emotionally and literally, and then you’d disappear for another 2 months until the next crisis hit. That kept happening until you had to go home, to Mexico, to live with your parents and figure life out.

I’ve had to figure life out. I relate to that. The guy I dated after sleeping with him after meeting him on Halloween? Ya, he was dating another woman but for real, in New York. I was the play girlfriend. When I found out, I totally fell down. Like being sacked by a grape vine covered in purple stilettos and stinging nettle. But the thing is, I got back up and I’m not about to go ask for his hand in marriage now that I’m okay again.

Okay, so maybe your friend or boyfriend or husband prospect or whatever you call him isn’t that bad. Maybe he had nothing to do with your depression and eroding self confidence while you were dating him the first time. Maybe I’m being too hard on the guy. Being a fish all your life and then realizing you’re really a person is a rude awakening. I hated it. I certainly wasn’t capable of much human interaction when I was coming to terms with that concept. Maybe that’s why you had to go back to Mexico. We all fall down. So it’s possible that your man deserves a second chance. But let me ask you a few questions if you don’t mind.

Does a second chance entail never seeing your friends and merely writing them messages on facebook? Does it entail talking about how much you love babies and want to have a baby? Does it involve quitting your job and hanging out at his house every day? Does it entail marriage??

I don’t know lady. I don’t. But I love you and I just need someone to go skinny dipping with every now and then. Let me know when you’re free.

Vulnerability

Is interesting. Formula is both disengaging and a turnoff. This concept is not new. In fact, since plays were made, stories told, speeches given & leaders elected, I’m pretty sure this has been the case. Yet, why is it that it’s so hard to to deliver honesty? Why am I, or why is anyone ever, less than brilliantly themselves?

Simplicity isn’t always. But when it lives, it’s undeniable.

(Choice of words can be a source of misunderstanding, I didn’t overlook that until I realized life is short enough. So, moral nihilism, you can go & suck a flaccid, shriveling, polka-dotted dick.)