The Enemy of the Good (eideteker) wrote,
The Enemy of the Good

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The Touch.

Maybe people think I'm exaggerating when I make comparisons between myself and Rainman. Well, sure I am, but they're there. One thing I've wondered about lately is touch. Rainman hates to be touched. I do, too, usually. It makes me very nervous; really uneasy, except in certain cases. Like any "pet" there are just certain people who can touch me. But I still want to be touched... I just don't like to be touched, generally. So when I find one of these people, I get very happy. Unfortunately, I haven't been meeting many people like that recently. What I've noticed, though, is that it makes me less picky. I think the word is "desperate." But I don't feel desperate. It's a positive feeling, to be more open about my physical space.

Pale Rider is on. I think I will watch it. Mostly because of this song. Someone once said something about me being a cowboy. Metaphorically or something; I haven't ridden a horse since I was five.

Jaws is in it? Ooh...

People Meeting People
The whole "RL" scene has been pretty pathetic in terms of meeting women who are pretty, intelligent, and fun. And willing to talk to me. Maybe it's just me; maybe it's social anxiety of some sort. The women I meet online (and consequently, in far off corners of the world, alas) seem to be more interesting and much easier to talk to. Maybe it's just "web representation"—people presenting themselves as much better than they really are. It's not like I haven't been lied to before. Still; it's not like I don't want to go out; there's just seldom somewhere to go. When did I get to be thirtysomething and boring? But I don't think I'm boring. I enjoy talking to the people I talk to, even if only online. No messy touch necessary; no physical awkwardness.

My writing isn't at its peak today. I need a scarf. And some nice black leather "strangulation" gloves, (faux)fur-lined.

I feel I should add something about touch here. This physical proximity is so valuable to me because sometimes I just hate talking. Feel free to refer the "comfortable silences" segment in Jackrabbit Slim's from the movie Pulp Fiction. Those of you who think you know me are probably saying, "You never shut up!" But those of you who know me know how hard it is to get anything out of me. At least, verbally.

I'm one huge pain in the ass. Don't touch me, don't talk to me, but love me? What the hell is that crap? Geez; good thing I'm working on getting over myself.


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