I discover with a degree of decrepitude that I do tend to be 'such a girl' on certain things. These days the primary basis of that observation lies in House Md Season three with me acting the perennial shipper fantasizing about Huddy storylines...it doesnt help any that my job description encourages me to prolong my perpetul voyages in La La Land. Its either that or counting off the days till Harry Potter 7 makes it to the shelves and I have something else to obsess about to distract myself from my chronic lack of something to obsess about. One has to be really sad to get their socks off fantasizing about fictional characters hooking up in alternate dimensions.
I am really sad....Ka Ching!
Which is probably why the force is just not with me. Yoda would probably put it like this 'New-found malice in your heart there is young Padawan, leaking is your half-full glass of universal solvent'. No shit, Master. Indeed it is. For once I wouldnt mind fantasizing or crushing over someone in 3-D, real time, with a face and a smile and a fragrance (im not sure if that means aftershave really, but propriety demands I pretend it does). Then again, people are... well people... and even if im not 'as special as I may like to think I am, as do we all' I still am I.
And people always remain people.
It appears my romances or perennial lack thereof are perpetually doomed to a series of long-distance, anonymous correspondences. Perhaps because reality is always disappointing and strangers are somehow vindicated and justified simultaneously in cyberspace and old letters than they are in person. It is a depressing thought being doomed at the other end of a perpetually pending conversation that will never end in an actual meeting, but you know that if it were to do so it would simply End, so you thrive on playing along because it means something is happening, even if that 'something' is a big, fat nothing. Or, as it happens to be in my case, the several somethings that happen to be unabashedly obese nothings.
So, cheers to all my daily one-liners in cyberspace that form the pivot-point edifice of my fantasies and a large part of my composite conversation.
I miss having a best friend.
Then again, that requires work too. 'People work'...the scariest kind.
I came across someone writing this online and it struck some semblance of a chord:
Veritas
The truth, I strongly suspect, is that love is a bit of a twee (maybe even sad) little illusion, a happy story that we tell ourselves to pretend that even if everything isn't all right now, it will be in the future. Maybe. If we hope desperately enough.
We're not talking agape here.
Sometimes, you wonder…what's the fucking point? Why even bother? Does it actually even mean anything?
Nope.
Good night.
I suppose I should be depressed but im not. A gay guy that I don't know somewhere in the world I don't know, Knows what I mean.
That's something isn't it?
I am really sad....Ka Ching!
Which is probably why the force is just not with me. Yoda would probably put it like this 'New-found malice in your heart there is young Padawan, leaking is your half-full glass of universal solvent'. No shit, Master. Indeed it is. For once I wouldnt mind fantasizing or crushing over someone in 3-D, real time, with a face and a smile and a fragrance (im not sure if that means aftershave really, but propriety demands I pretend it does). Then again, people are... well people... and even if im not 'as special as I may like to think I am, as do we all' I still am I.
And people always remain people.
It appears my romances or perennial lack thereof are perpetually doomed to a series of long-distance, anonymous correspondences. Perhaps because reality is always disappointing and strangers are somehow vindicated and justified simultaneously in cyberspace and old letters than they are in person. It is a depressing thought being doomed at the other end of a perpetually pending conversation that will never end in an actual meeting, but you know that if it were to do so it would simply End, so you thrive on playing along because it means something is happening, even if that 'something' is a big, fat nothing. Or, as it happens to be in my case, the several somethings that happen to be unabashedly obese nothings.
So, cheers to all my daily one-liners in cyberspace that form the pivot-point edifice of my fantasies and a large part of my composite conversation.
I miss having a best friend.
Then again, that requires work too. 'People work'...the scariest kind.
I came across someone writing this online and it struck some semblance of a chord:
Veritas
The truth, I strongly suspect, is that love is a bit of a twee (maybe even sad) little illusion, a happy story that we tell ourselves to pretend that even if everything isn't all right now, it will be in the future. Maybe. If we hope desperately enough.
We're not talking agape here.
Sometimes, you wonder…what's the fucking point? Why even bother? Does it actually even mean anything?
Nope.
Good night.
I suppose I should be depressed but im not. A gay guy that I don't know somewhere in the world I don't know, Knows what I mean.
That's something isn't it?
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