hey me
hey whats up
nothing much. why am i entertaining this- this self talk? reminiscent of aol instant messenger.
you know what. i have no idea. i think it’s to further make fun of myself.
yeah, you did come on here to talk about your dating life.
yeah, i wanted to share some deep thoughts. really deep thoughts.
deep thoughts about heterosexuality. dating straight. and fearing queerness despite the ease of queerness.
yes yes yes. that’s it. i’m so fucking afraid. well here we go.
i’ve become acquainted over the past few months with the taste of metal in my mouth. it’s almost as if i bit my lip or tongue, just a tiny bit, and iron is somewhat coating in just the right areas to give a little tingle.
i experienced this tingle on full blast in june, when i was high as fuck fuck on acid. this experience led me to feel completely overstimulated, i felt like i was in a constant orgasm. i was at elsewhere, the main floor and the world was melting into each other. i was feeling wet, a cup fell on me of some drink (i hope it wasn’t urine), and i was feeling wet. i was also feeling wet. i was seeping wet. i felt the wetness of others, i felt that i was being covered in ejaculate of others. as i was dancing completely high as fuck, apparently someone thought i looked great enough to photograph and plaster as part of the party promo video. i was horrified when my friend who supplied this acid shared this to me proudly as evidence of my ingrained celebrity and coolness. what the fuck.
fortunately, this photo was great at reassuring me that i did not look as unhinged as my mind was at this party, nor appeared objectively as wet as a felt. great.
tangent aside, i now am aware of what my body feels like when it is overstimulated. and how this stimulation can just come in waves. the connection with pleasure and pain within me as two sides of the same coin, and as time passes i can feel the same stimulation and my brain can pulsate in processing it as pleasure, as pain, as pleasure, pain.
this metallic taste i feel right now. as i am thinking about processing my thoughts on my fears of dating women. how i want to shut the door on it, but feel obligated to explore it despite my fears.
the tingle happens when i also think about someone i am seeing and am very, well, excited about.
he is a straight man. after i wrote the above sentence, my heart paused. i wistfully dissociated. he noticed me literally swooning over him the other day right next to him. i am appreciative of how attuned he is to me so quickly. i guess i am easy to read. but he also communicates to me and inquires about it to me.
as i think about this the metallic taste, increases in my mouth, my tongue starts to tingle and my heart beats more deeply.
this feels so wonderful.
i also grieve the last time with the last person i felt this way with. does he know about this website? did he ever care to know? would he care to look this up out of curiosity to see this, be curious about how i am doing? the fact that i honestly don’t know inspires sadness. how can the feeling of being cared for and caring for get obfuscated and confused such that the caring is no longer so obvious or becomes insidious in some way.
the feeling of falling in love, being in such deep like (okay really it is love because I love so many people and do not fear using this term except in this scenario where i don’t want to scare this person or even myself away with the depth of my feelings that i’ll just say like and lie to myself and him a bit because i need to protect myself and maybe he needs a bit of protection too from my dissappointment).
WHY FUCK THIS UP WITH MY CONFUSION AND FEAR OF DATING WOMEN?
yes it does not have to be either or. but in my mind it constantly feels like an either or scenario. i think it’s probably because it is so way too emotionally exhausting to think about seriously dating a woman right now while i feel this strongly and am having so much security in heterosexuality.
the woman that i am dating is definitely a woman but she is very masculine. perhaps it is not too great to entirely places this woman in an masculine bucket because, well if anyone were to imagine a masculine bucket i bet it’s probably extremely gross with urine splattered on the sides of it, but maybe my mind just wants to put her in this masculine bucket because i am looking for any excuse to write her off because i am fucking terrified of getting to know her. being with her sexually, it is gentle and soft. her stature is smaller and i am more firm. our chemistry is electric. but her personality is a bit brash and crude, and desires simplicity. i am honestly attracted to more softness in one’s way of relating.
my tongue is tingling but the pit in my stomach is growing. i feel like i can’t but i should.
hello world!