Today was a a lot of lounging and thinking. Bizarre and needless tensions between individuals and the backbeat of the same five CD's I've had in my car for far too long.
Yesterday was a party full of people from work who talked and gabbed and the nicole girl from the office who has a crush on me whom I try to be so nice to yet can hardly stand to be around she's so terribly negative and angry about so many things. She makes me feel like I'm running through a river of coal-black thick straining oil to pull myself to the other side of anything. I leave early and meet Nicki and Hanna at the bar in SE. They make me a space and Hanna flirts with me and Nicki flirts with the other boys and then when we're alone Nicki and I talk about serious things, which has always been the peculiar aspect of our friendship. Around others, we're banal and silly and flipant, alone we have depth. A nice friend to have.
From here to there and then back again.
I drive back to the NE to go to another party, this time with Nicki and Hanna and the predictable coupla guys in tow. We went to a part to say goodbye to Rachel who's moving to New Zealand, and happy birthday to her friend. I dressed in slick and slide and dyed my hair bright bleach brillance. The folks wandered about and said hello and all the people love me. I friends I brought I don't know about, and one wears all the coats in the closet as a ploy to pander against my intentions. I don't drink much and feel good although I'm the only smoker at the party which is strange for me.
A woman named Star is there at the party, and I remember her from last weekend when she made some abrupt comments and some suggestive gestures and she's drunk and forward. I shake and shive and I'm astounded once again by how casual I can be around women who are unavailable to me, and how stupid and clumsy I an be around women I think might be interested.
Star sings some songs on the Kerioki machine (same kinda party as last weekend). She winks at me and dimples towards me. She holds a wooden spoon in the kitchen that she slaps in her hands. She tells me that when I grab the spoon, she'll know it's time to go upstairs. She gives me a tour that ends in her room.
She sits on the bed and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. Flickering lights pass by the windows as Star makes the international sign for "this moment and now may matter only so much as we can hold on to it." Which we can't. She sits on the bed, so opposite of shy that I don't even know how to not know what to do. Do I even want to be doing this? Do I even want to move in for this? She's so open and forward with all that she wants from me that I freeze. This is not the drama that play that loops in my head.
Women are attracted to my voice and words and language and conversation. It's a slow seduction over the time of a few meals. I don't know what to say and do with a woman who's exchanged all of 50 words with me, mostly in the form of pop-song lyrics in the Kerioki machine...yet who wants to press me into her horizons.
I drumble and fumble and remark upon the wonderful countours of the room. I duck out the door, faining interest in the choked exhaustion of the moonlight drizzled cigarette.
On the way back to SE Nikki and Hanna go home in another car and I drive with Rachel. Rachel clues me in. Star's been talking about me for all week now, since last party we were all together.
All I can think is how flattered I am, and how confused I am as whether to move in any direction at all. I can't even remember (five seonds later now) if I was attracted to her or not. I just remember everything being too fast for me. I don't know how to speak that language.
I tell Rachel that she should tell Star that I thought maybe she was just kidding with me, and that she was as queer as all the other girls there (which is party true). I tell Rachel that Star shouldn't feel bad at all...and that she should give me a call and everything.
I don't think much of it after that.
Today Star calls me, clever and silly...honest and funny. I feel instantly attracted to her. Now that I'm not next to her, forcing my response, I can easily jump around words with her, like we're fellow skateboarders jumping on and off one another's boards with vexless ease.
I get asked out.
I say yes (I think)...but I have to call HER next. She said this was because it was now MY social anxiety to call or not, and no longer hers. I can accept that.
I must remind myself to be honest about where I'm at....about my possible trip home soon next year....about my inability to let anyone inside because of my shattered and divided mind/soul/place. I must mention things, of course....in the best possible way I can.
Anyway
I have a date...I guess.
A date to go to dinner and explain things, and she if she's still interested in hanging out after that.
Adam
Yesterday was a party full of people from work who talked and gabbed and the nicole girl from the office who has a crush on me whom I try to be so nice to yet can hardly stand to be around she's so terribly negative and angry about so many things. She makes me feel like I'm running through a river of coal-black thick straining oil to pull myself to the other side of anything. I leave early and meet Nicki and Hanna at the bar in SE. They make me a space and Hanna flirts with me and Nicki flirts with the other boys and then when we're alone Nicki and I talk about serious things, which has always been the peculiar aspect of our friendship. Around others, we're banal and silly and flipant, alone we have depth. A nice friend to have.
From here to there and then back again.
I drive back to the NE to go to another party, this time with Nicki and Hanna and the predictable coupla guys in tow. We went to a part to say goodbye to Rachel who's moving to New Zealand, and happy birthday to her friend. I dressed in slick and slide and dyed my hair bright bleach brillance. The folks wandered about and said hello and all the people love me. I friends I brought I don't know about, and one wears all the coats in the closet as a ploy to pander against my intentions. I don't drink much and feel good although I'm the only smoker at the party which is strange for me.
A woman named Star is there at the party, and I remember her from last weekend when she made some abrupt comments and some suggestive gestures and she's drunk and forward. I shake and shive and I'm astounded once again by how casual I can be around women who are unavailable to me, and how stupid and clumsy I an be around women I think might be interested.
Star sings some songs on the Kerioki machine (same kinda party as last weekend). She winks at me and dimples towards me. She holds a wooden spoon in the kitchen that she slaps in her hands. She tells me that when I grab the spoon, she'll know it's time to go upstairs. She gives me a tour that ends in her room.
She sits on the bed and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. Flickering lights pass by the windows as Star makes the international sign for "this moment and now may matter only so much as we can hold on to it." Which we can't. She sits on the bed, so opposite of shy that I don't even know how to not know what to do. Do I even want to be doing this? Do I even want to move in for this? She's so open and forward with all that she wants from me that I freeze. This is not the drama that play that loops in my head.
Women are attracted to my voice and words and language and conversation. It's a slow seduction over the time of a few meals. I don't know what to say and do with a woman who's exchanged all of 50 words with me, mostly in the form of pop-song lyrics in the Kerioki machine...yet who wants to press me into her horizons.
I drumble and fumble and remark upon the wonderful countours of the room. I duck out the door, faining interest in the choked exhaustion of the moonlight drizzled cigarette.
On the way back to SE Nikki and Hanna go home in another car and I drive with Rachel. Rachel clues me in. Star's been talking about me for all week now, since last party we were all together.
All I can think is how flattered I am, and how confused I am as whether to move in any direction at all. I can't even remember (five seonds later now) if I was attracted to her or not. I just remember everything being too fast for me. I don't know how to speak that language.
I tell Rachel that she should tell Star that I thought maybe she was just kidding with me, and that she was as queer as all the other girls there (which is party true). I tell Rachel that Star shouldn't feel bad at all...and that she should give me a call and everything.
I don't think much of it after that.
Today Star calls me, clever and silly...honest and funny. I feel instantly attracted to her. Now that I'm not next to her, forcing my response, I can easily jump around words with her, like we're fellow skateboarders jumping on and off one another's boards with vexless ease.
I get asked out.
I say yes (I think)...but I have to call HER next. She said this was because it was now MY social anxiety to call or not, and no longer hers. I can accept that.
I must remind myself to be honest about where I'm at....about my possible trip home soon next year....about my inability to let anyone inside because of my shattered and divided mind/soul/place. I must mention things, of course....in the best possible way I can.
Anyway
I have a date...I guess.
A date to go to dinner and explain things, and she if she's still interested in hanging out after that.
Adam
oryx:
thanks for your comment about my set!
