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Thursday, March 31, 2016

what the eff i've done

i'm reading your post for the third time. why? i'll tell you one of the reasons: i'm still trying to understand what you're apologizing for. so far, my only theory is that i have perhaps misrepresented myself. herein, i hope to undo any unduly-effected incrimination. (and maybe get a semi-solid post out of it in the process. i do not know why i woke up at 3am... maybe i should go back to full doses of Unisom? or maybe i shouldn't drink forty CL of medium-light-roast coffee a couple hours before sleepytime. shouldn'ta wouldn'ta couldn'ta.)

"HE'S CASTING! EVERYONE DOWN-"

oh, shut up. hell's bells...

~     ~     ~

it's true that, as someone who has passed all the way through Christianity, i've acquired a certain self-preservational instinct. self-preservatory. ugh stop effing redlining me, blogger... you don't know things. sorry, readers. self-preserving ... ? oh yeah you like that. COME AT ME BLO

it's true that, as someone who has passed all the way through Christianity, i've acquired a certain act-in-my-own-best-interests-ness. at the same time, though, i've retained several qualities that would be considered Christlike if things had not become different. and now that i think about it in that light, i realize that in my conversation with Shawn about how i treat women, i never once tried to use my religious upbringing as an explanation, even though some of my stories directly referenced church experiences. huh.

back to the apology at hand: i erred. don't you love it when those British types say "erred" and it rhymes with curd, and bird? except their accent makes it "uhhhhd." õõõd. sorry again. in the recent past, i made an error. i said this thing...

first: don't ask for something without knowing what it's really like.
second: then don't let go

...and then i hwined & hwined about blah blah excruciating yada yada. and at the time of the writing, sure: i was pleading on my own two behalves. sure: i'm a bit twitchy now, after being intensely pursued and then discarded many times. sure: i've blogged pages and pages, and written lame / lyrically dumb songs about the pain. #booeffinghoo

but the truths are these: first, that that attitude doesn't fit who i want to be. second, that i should be warning peeps for their own sake, not mine. Mab strike me down if i ever plead on my own bewhole again, especially in regard to burnination. *chin-thrusty-glares at self*

~     ~     ~

the weird thing about break-ups and [whatever a platonic break-up is called... burnination for now, i guess]s, is that it's entirely possible for one to break up with someone and still hurt and feel regret after initiating it. Alexa was in tears over it on several occasions, the first of those months before our relationship ended. Llaura genuinely missed me while cheating on me and, many months later, tried to talk with me again in person, for some reason expecting me to desire friendship again (and genuinely desiring friendship herself). others, having ceased to show any sign of life on their side of the respective friendships, would still make occasional eye contact and therein reveal the pain of separation they were feeling.

it may seem to many people that i'm walled off, socially, but the truth is i'm an open book for those who truly wish to know me. Google, anyone?? i hide nothing here (except perhaps the tawdry, sordid details; i prefer to speak in theme and metaphor, not because i'm afraid but because the surface stuff doesn't really matter). and one of the benefits of being an open book is that i always have a ready outlet for emoting. the downside of that is, others who have no such public diary seem even more walled off than i do to others. in other words, if you don't express yourself as openly and fully as i do, i subconsciously assume that behind your walls, nothing whatsoever is happening.

the truth, if my bridge-buddies are to be believed, is the opposite. still waters and suchlike. that certainly seems to be the case here.

and because that is the case, and because i have realized it to be the case, i have come to appreciate the value to others of withholding from them. by holding back, by keeping some distance, i reduce or remove their future pain. i can say with certainty that i would have caused a great deal less grief to them if i had never become close in the first place.

so, yes... there is a particular safety in never getting close to me.

"what safety?"

you'll never have to feel regret or longing for what/whom you eventually abandon. you never have to feel any guilt for causing me pain. you never have even a slight inclination to read my shamefully pathetic hwimperings for months after our friendship ends (or, if you do read them, you don't care about them). you never unfollow, unsubscribe, or delete old pictures or all of our messages at once. you never alienate me by trying to raise our undead friendship.



i think i have decided. i'm about 95% committed to unwithholding, at this point. that said, there's still time to get off of the ground floor of something big, while the 5% is shrinking.

fair warning, fair lady.

with all that out of the way, i can say this other thing: though my heartmindsoulthing is at 95%, i really feel as though i've not gone far out of my way for you. what's the most i've sacrificed in one swoop? a few hours of sleep? that doesn't even count; i got way more out of it than i gave. what, then? a few cups of coffee? same answer. gas?? come on. that's probly your effing $10 in the just-the-tip bucket right now.  >:(

part of me believes this friendship will always be just slightly out-of-balance. it isn't a bad thing. i don't prefer to receive more than i give but i can allow it, to some small degree. for now. anyway, i hope you finish this with a deep sense not of forgiveness but of retroactive uncrimination (it's better, trust me). i never meant to imply that you had made demands of me, and i certainly never felt that you had done so. not that i would be upset if you demanded something; in fact i'd appreciate it. you're too polite with me. "make me an omelette" should be the feminine analog to "make me a sandwich."

regarding vulnerability and trust: they are certainly two distinct things in my world. as i've mentioned to Sduff lately, 'trust' is one of those troublesome concepts that society has mangled. trust with hwat, exactly?? in common vernacular, 'trust' is mistranslated from 'expect.' they are not synonymous with each other.

  • i trust you to be a remarkable friend; i expect you to make mistakes.
  • i trust you to be honest; i expect you to sometimes keep secrets (which is certainly your prerogative, and i encourage you to do so when it benefits you).
  • i trust you to not hurt me on purpose; i expect you to cause me pain (which is not wrong, and the expectation and allowance of you to do so is certainly my prerogative).
nothing you've done or haven't done has compromised me. as for straining or hurting... i go to the gym to destroy myself so that i can slowly slowly slowly approach (probly not ever reach) an acceptable physical state. i didn't recognize this fully until a few years ago, but all situations in which i feel emotional pain in the context of some relationship, are unique opportunities to grow. i want those. i need them.

okay... almost all. there are some exceptions.

despite being exceptional, you aren't one of them.



lastly: in any case where you desire something, i will quote your master: you do not have because you do not ask. were you not paying attention when you finally admitted you were hungry and i literally lept from my chair to start scrambling those eggs? have i not offered enough invitations? have i not programmed your number to bypass my Do Not Disturb function?

fine. i renew my vow to myself, to be who i have always been and do what i have always done. and if i'm very successful i may even manage to convince you that i enjoy it. even if that doesn't happen, i would encourage you to make demands of those things which you know i'll say yes to, and to make bold requests of those things about hwich you're uncertain of my response. loving you means the opposite of giving anything begrudgingly, and as wonderful as it is to receive from you, i crave the giving even more. that's one of the other reasons i read your post three times.

Sunday, March 20, 2016

unajamed

sometime in the past 24 hours, i dipped my toes in the baltic again.

i watched the sun set, and rise, again. i danced freely, with a vision, again. i intoxed and detoxed seamlessly, again, which is not very easy. i got qunk and then sober again, also seamlessly (id est, without sleeping in between the two). i had my fill of new and old music, again, in three languages from four or more countries. i smiled so hard my face hurt, again. i went out late for random gourmet snacks, again. i cried, again.

i wore my wedding ring, again, and it fit.

i canceled plans with my ex-closest friend. mixed some new drinks. practiced my pho- & cinema-tography. asked & answered PQs. 'sang' with barry white, joan jett, and the three daughters of mordechai.

basically i was happy again, and i should probably admit that if i keep posting these stupid happy posts, it will not be quite as easy to leave as i would have liked.

~     ~     ~

"i could drink a case of you, dearling... and still be on my feet" - DK

Saturday, March 19, 2016

i-ssencia

others would say i take things personally when i shouldn't. i might have to agree with them on a practical level, but in principle, one is either trusted or distrusted. i wish i could apply for trust the same way i apply for jobs.

i feel i would do wellish. were someone to transcribe from my soul to 8½-by-11" cardstock, and include relational records, i doubt i'd get much resistance.

of course the opposite is also possible: maybe if everyone read my blog, none would trust me.



today i made several dozen mistakes... but only a few were egregious. the majority will iron out with time and effort. the few will probably persist until i can't show my face in anywhere ever.

today (technically) i grew a little. maybe i should give myself a small break. and maybe i should forgive myself for being a little too empty, a little too much me, because others would say i take even my own insults too personally.

today i give myself a sharp reminder, that i'm not in Estonia yet. so until then, less me for everybody.

Friday, March 18, 2016

the opposite of friendship

saw some old pictures just now. hard for me to comprehend that it was only a few years ago i attended your graduation, photographed you and family and friends and the socal supermoon, followed you around downtown on foot, illumined by italian lights and thinking there was nothing i'd rather be doing anywhere with anyone else.

missing your face, your voice, and your care makes my chest hurt. seeing your lioness sister growing up makes me want to try again immediately before it's too late to even consider the possibility. i can hear you strumming your guitar in between song covers in the womens' bathroom. i remember chilly spring air drifting in through the door we propped open a few inches so we had just the right mood lighting. i remember lambchop complaining about the cold.

i remember the best fourth of july ever, where i discovered my second favorite cigar in a drawer in the hallway of someone else's home. i remember my first attempt at omelettes, which sucked, and you getting angry and wanting everyone to leave except me.

i remember you unintentionally helped me decide & discover that altos are the best sound ever. i remember teaching you to harmonize by the numbers. i remember being patient with you when you made the same mistake a dozen times in a row before getting it right, and i remember how blessed i believed myself to be, to participate in such a thing. i remember the acoustic profile of the nursery and the creak of the rocking chair while we waited for the entire AVT to arrive. i remember wishing i could be simultaneously leading and photoshooting because the windowlight in there is pretty dang good.

i remember summer camps and you pretending to be a homeless person begging for $5 in exchange for washing the windshield.

i remember mad-libbing the eff word into Disney songs.

i remember drinking a long island iced tea with you for the first time. i remember you looked crazy good in that dress and those heels. i remember feeling confused every time i looked in your eyes and found fear festering there. i remember trying new recipes with you, new chords, new ice cream flavors, new dissonances. i remember driving from Fresno to La Mirada and back again in a single night for you, and how much caffeine i consumed while i was there, and how many tattoos the barista had, and how your front porch didn't look like your front porch (and indeed, turned out not to be).

i remember us making people cry, and everyone enjoying that.



i have a shit memory. but i remember your everything from three, four, nine years ago better than i remember my anything from last week.

i remember you and my chest threatens to collapse inward.

this is what losing someone is like. it's like being hungry and having no mouth. it's like watching your favorite band play, but being deaf. 

the opposite of a friend isn't an enemy. it's a lost friend. i'd rather have a thousand enemies at my heels. i'd rather break my arm again. i'd rather retch violently once every day for the rest of my life. i'd rather be a single devoted Christian white court vampire. i'd rather forget how to harmonize.

sometimes, i'd rather forget you.

oh desiiiirrre, it won't briiing you baaaack

lately i've caught myself (/ been caught) dodging bullets fired many years ago, or swerving to avoid potholes that exist only on roads no longer traveled. it's not symptomatic of anxiety, nor is it a twitchy reaction to false alarms. it's a way of thinking, and an ingrained belief, operating mostly on the subconscious level. well, until now. holding subconsciousypoos up to the light of lucidity is one of the main purposes of this blog.

~     ~     ~

my condition isn't entirely useless. if one is conditioned to duck when one hears gunfire, well... megahea. or, in my case, if one has lost every intimate friendship with every female ever, then perhaps one's adaptation to that unbroken pattern is an evolutionary survival mechanism. on the other hand, perhaps one is perpetuating those patterns, reinforcing them by capitulating to them.

this is probably a good opportunity to put one of my newly realized beliefs into practice. each relationship should be treated differently, based on a basquillion different things. each fran can be trusted with a slightly different set of things. regardless of what i decide to do about my condition, it won't apply itself the same way to every situation. it'll be merely a principle, which then needs customized applications. maybe some situation will convince me to go all in; maybe i'll have to withdraw somewhat from some of my current attachments (even those that don't need such action right now).

but the thung is, this particular pattern has held without exception so far, sometimes without any capitulation on my part. and while it's true that every friendship has crests & troughs, and that i have had a greater number of close friendships with girls than i have with guys, anticipating and... preacting to?... the seemingly inevitable ending is optional.

i'm rambling. time for a paragraph break.



in recent chapters, my best franships with women are hobbled by less recent past chapters' bridge-burninations. i learned the hard way the consequences of diving in headfirst: delayed onset skull fractures, unscheduled heart hemorrhage, et cetera. that isn't to say i always acted in accordance with my knowledge (acting thusly is a large part of wisdom), but at least i learnt at all.

this 'learning' has given me the conscious option of holding back. cannonballs and belly flops permitted; divings prohibited.

"what's diving look like, non-metaphorically?"

oh man. i needed that question. i was dithering about until you asked that. now i have some meat to masticate.

diving in looks like this:
  • the friendship becomes a major creative outlet for me. i spontaneously record songlettes, write poemies or fictionypoos, take photos, handmake gifts... and share them exclusively with that friend. i even dedicate and/or address whole blog posts to that specific person (see next bullet).
     
  • the friendship prompts fresh travels down new & old avenues of thought, which leads to both gradual and breakthrough progress toward the [re]formation of my worldview, and of my self-concept. (this post is an example of that.)
     
  • i am both more open to and less invested in other friendships. it's easier for me to respond to others' social needwants, perhaps because i have a good source of fuel?, and yet, because i'm in a fairly consistent state of satisfaction, i don't seek / request as much of what i needwant, socially, from others.
     
  • my sensitivity to beauty in its many forms increases, and remains fairly consistent. this is in marked contrast to times of social darkness (lack of close friendship), when a graph of my sensitivity to beauty would look like a bipolar seismograph, and the line would mostly stay below my average. but yeah, when i've divened in, movies and music and dreams and reminiscences make me cry more, and more often.
     
  • i dedicate more time and energy to my own health, not for an end goal but because i am motivated. i have the energy to invest in the first place, because the friendship nourishes me in my most important ways.
     
  • i purposely come to rely on that friend for a large portion of my inner zen. it's deep enough that, if i feel like something's wrong with me but i'm not sure what it is, it's probably that i haven't had a positive interaction with that person for 12 or more hours. i've become so used to it now, though, that i know exactly where to look when i feel such an angst. i also tend to lose... idk, inner homeostasis??... if i find myself in conflict with that friend. in fact it's almost certain that any negative tension with that person will affect the whole of me, nonstop, until it's resolved, at which point i'll feel like all the gray skies [muthafucka!] everywhere have suddenly parted and mister bluebird is on my shoulder.
     
  • when my needwant to care deeply and often for someone is met, my problems and failures seem to shrink. i don't value them less but i am not so emotionally suffocated by them. i guess this means my capacity for depression is lessened. that's a big deal.
     
  • my previous losses become easier to process. i haven't yet figured out why, but something about a close friendship helps me more usefully examine past losses thereof.
     
of course, it's a spectrum, with diving in at one end and discarding at the other. right now i feel i'm sitting at an 8.5 or so (but, my vector has a positive value).

so, my question for myself is, at what number should i be sitting?

~     ~     ~

monsters lurk underwater. one of them, the one that prefers to nibble at me during the friendship, is shaded in greys; another is the aforementioned depression, waiting to break the surface and swallow me whole if i happen to be standing on the bridge when it burns. several others, tiny but fierce, wait in line behind those: after the initial destruction / loss of the friendship, each picks a random number between 1 and 24, and the number picked is the month (following the end of the friendship) in which each (respectively) ambushes me with tooth & claw.

in past close friendships i've chosen to ignore all of these, partly because i am proudly fearless and partly because i need the things that close friendship provides. when one truly needs a thing, one sells all he has to purcheese the field in which the thing is buried.

(concerned parties may be concerned at this point that my friendship is selfishly motivated. well, yes; it is. go google the famous philosophical debate on whether altruism is even a thing. oh fine here's the link. anyways lookit: i'm not unique in this: those we think of as selfless, enjoy being so. so... uhm, yeah. so there. don't look at me like that. ¬_¬ )

in present times, and in the future, things may be different. i'm still deciding.

"don't hold back."

first: don't ask for something without knowing what it's really like.
second: then don't let go, because guess what? i talked about perpetual patterns at the beginning of this post, but did i mention that i've never been the one to end any of those close friendships? ever?

that means that i expect you to do so. that means that any desire on your part for me to dive in should be tempered by your [lack of?] trust in yourself to not do what every other close female friend has done. you (whoever you are; this post isn't or at least won't always be meant for just one person), my friend, wouldst ask me to do what popular society thinks of as the definition of insanity??

well, maybe i'm inclined to acquiesce. okay i'm strongly inclined.... like, an 89° angle. but i'm also inclined to not die excruciatingly on the inside, again. and again. and again.



somehow even though this post marks growth for me, i feel vulnerable and stupid and lame having exposed myself this much.

blogging is good for me.

Saturday, March 12, 2016

#EEEEEE


~     ~     ~

on the 26th of june last year, i had the remarkable once-in-a-lifetime opportunity & privilege of shooting an Estonian wedding, of one Estonian to another, in Estonia. i have never met two people who mesh so easily, especially while retaining every iota of their respective individualities. i would go so far as to say they magnify each other in all the best ways. i would wish for every relationship to be more like theirs.


it is also true that i'm planning a nude-ish photoshoot of the bride at some point in the future. i at some point promised her "butt pictures" ...so, butt pictures she shall have. they will of course be tasteful and artsy[-fartsy??], because that's just who i am as a tog. (i used to joke with someone with whom i had a physically intimate relationship, that she should never try to seduce me while i was behind my camera, because i would just end up loving the vibe and shooting more keepers, while she went unsatisfied and rejected-feeling.)

i will enjoy that photoshoot, not primarily because i'm a heterooooooosexual male, but because she's one of the most fun and positive people i've ever met. she's also one of my very important friends. despite spending relatively few hours with me, she's seen me laugh cry sleep wake skinny-dip and sculpt/deep-fry penis-shaped gluten-free doughnuts with my own two hands. oh and she also found my ring after i swallowed it.

#hellafriendship

she's the kind of person with whom i can disregard (not discard, necessarily, but potentially) inhibitions and be completely free to do be do be do whosoever i am. (that is, in fact, partly what it means to me to be Estonian.)

in 'murica, a relationship like this would receive a great deal of scathing criticism, both passive and active, from many sources. but in Estonia, especially among our common friends, the behaviour i've described above would be taken as a matter of course. it would even be viewed as normal, and perhaps casual entertainment, in the same category as a slightly drunk person doing a silly dance.

this friend sent me the above message in january of this year in anticipation of visiting Fresno. we had a fantastic time, she and i and her husband and her husband's brother and a smattering of my local friends. i was indeed slapped, as promised. it was perhaps the most platonic spanking i (as an adult) have ever received, even while being delivered by someone who (apparently) appreciates me in a physical aesthetic sense. appreciates part of me* that way at least.

i accidentally typed "aspreciates" just now. no joke.

enivei. i say all this to preface yet another post about a certain shade (absolutely no reference to any semi-recently released film is intended).

~     ~     ~

this post won't receive the #apostasy label because it isn't about that, but i should mention it in passing because i've noticed that i am unintentionally proselytizing where'er i go. my personality and beliefs are more intertwined than they've ever been; i'm very much myslef, and myslef is influential. that, of course, is apurpose; but i swear i don't intend to make Estonians out of others. if i have that effect to any degree, 99% of the time it's just my new aura asserting itself, attempting perhaps to assimilate. i sure am using a lot of words beginning with ass in this, a post that started out with a message about my ass. #minuperse

this post will, however, receive the #grey label, because i find the need to add depth and dimension to that asspect of my worldview. i find that the question posited by this film is, in fact, faulty in and of itself.

"isaiah... questions can't be faulty."

this one is.

"...but how / why / i can't even"

because it assumed a false dichotomy between black and white. developed relationships between two self-aware persons are more complex than that.

"gimme an example"

give yourSLEF an example! make a list of all the things you would wish to do with your potential romantic partner. a comprehensive list. include every last minuscule thing: every mutual activity of every kind.

okay, now sort that exhaustive list of things (removed from the context of your hypothetical relationship) by hashtags: platonic, romantic, sexual, physical, emotional, mental, spiritual, tangible, intangible, and whichever other labels you might find useful for making categorical distinctions. note that a single activity can have multiple labels. it is quite possible, for example, to skinny-dip with someone, either with an overtone of sexuality or without. it is also possible to achieve the same sexual satisfaction of skinny-dipping with an object of your sexual desire without being able to interact with that person in any physical way, including visually.

"you lost me."

you can feel connected with a close friend who died years ago by reading old letters from them. you can have an affair with someone you've never been within a mile of. you can, in this day and age, be connected by actual wires to someone else's brain and exchange information, without having any sort of relationship outside of that exchange. you could even write a sincere romantic love letter to an imaginary person.

getting back to the list of activities: with the awareness that relationships are capable of great complexity (and, therefore, of non-conformity to commonly recognized societal patterns or archetypes), ask yourself this question: how committed are you to upholding those patterns or types?

do you think less of me for having what many would identify as a 'sexual' relationship with a married woman? should i be labeled deluded because i claim to have a healthy platonic relationship with someone i find attractive in every way? if my libido temporarily enjoys [alongside my inner artistically-minded tog] taking high-resolution pictures of that woman's hindquarters, yet i never dwell on the memory of that experience nor use it to satisfy my sexual desire, am i guilty (even by Christianity's standards!) of the deadly sin of lust?

let's use a less easily-targeted example. in certain regions of Africa, such as Kenya, it might be entirely normal for women to attend Sunday morning church (yes: evangelical Christian church) topless. scratch the word might: it is normal.

"how would you even know"

my uncle, along with his devoted wife and his children, ministered to Kenyans, in Kenya, for years. he served communion to those topless women.

what sort of relationship did he have with them? (that's not rhetorical. take a moment to answer the question for yourslef.)

i could scour the interwebz for infinite additional examples that would obliterate the comfortable, carefully drawn boundaries of middle-class 'murica as you know it. or you could do so yourslef. in fact i encourage you to do even better: go visit other countries. your mind will certainly be stretched to the blogging point.

~     ~     ~

"what's all this got to do with you?"

i want to defend my position. it's inevitable that i will continue to discover and/or create situations which defy rapid, accurate categorization. if i had my own blog and i were being extra honest & open on it, i would confess proclaim that i intend to do so.

"that's dumb. you're gonna cause problems."

indeed. kuradi deal with it. if i hug a so-called platonic friend for so long and so tightly that my arms start to tingle due to compromisation of blood circulation, that may or may not have anything to do with how much i enjoy feeling the pressure of their body against mine ("gasp! bodies! sex! inappropes!")... but either way, it shouldn't be instantly apparent, even to me or that person, what the nature of our relationship is, any more than the nature of a black hole should be instantly apparent to the scientific community of 1782 CE, or the nature of the Holy Spirit to a newbornagain convert from Islam to Christianity.

it should never be instantly apparent to anyone, to which category a particular relationship belongs. intent to define should take time and effort, after the expending of which the relationship will probably have grown anyway, at which point it would require additional time and effort to define. while all healthy father-daughter relationships have a thing or two in common, it's also true they are each unique.

~     ~     ~

today i watched the Iron Giant: Signature Edition. although the addition of two new scenes was fun for me (in fact they provided the impotence impetus for my purchasing of the February-release DVD), they were not the most enjoyable part of the experience. i saw the characters and their relationships through older eyes, and i was at some points in danger of weeping.

the primary reason the iron giant was able to spend days exploring and enjoying the world of Hogarth Hughes, without being hunted down and confronted to the point of an ending, was that Hogarth was a young child. the film provides a plethora of subtle clues that, imho, add up to an overwhelmingly convincing body of evidence: that Hogarth's youth (to which many adults would instantly assign lack of perspective) is the very perspective he would need to see the giant as a friend and not a foe.

every adult in the film, and even each of the other children!, reacts to the very idea of the iron giant with typical prejudice. Mrs Hughes believes it just another tall tale. the crazy old seadog catches one brief glimpse of the giant through a storm, and assumes either a Russian invasion or a Martian invasion. the army general laughs and teases Kent Mansley just for reporting the possibility of the iron giant. 

only Hogarth, in his naiveté, gives the giant a chance to do a hip-hop dance. his naiveté expresses itself via a lack of criticism of the giant. Hogarth asks questions the way any young curious child does: with absolutely no intent or expectation other than the discovery of something new and, most likely, interesting. the giant's curiosity mirrors Hogarth's own.



i want people to do the same with relationships. it probly won't happen but i want it nonetheless. i want everyone to have the option of caressing a friend's face if they feel like it, without having that action immediately evaluated as totes inappropes. (in many cases i'm sure it would be so, but why should the assumption be instant and without exception? and what constitutes a universal inappropriateness? what if someone wants a face-caress? maybe that's not all that different from wanting a pop-tart for breakfast.)

i want everyone to feel free to go out on a date with someone, without being expected to date them (and without being interrogated regarding their intentions. maybe they just want that one date! you don't know their life!) (p.s. what constitutes a date anyways??? no... must resist... must save for another post...)

i want everyone to feel free to say "i love you" and expect that the person to whom it is addressed will understand it, and that everyone else will eff off and mind Their Own Beeswax™ rather than speculating as to the intentions or desires or meanings of either person.

i want footsies to be, at least in potential, a valid platonic interaction. i want intense emotional closeness to be, potentially, a sign of health. i want people to stop making asses of themselves and umption, and most of all, i want every single relationship in the world to be unfettered insofar as it is good for the people involved.

i want every relationship everywhere forever to be healthy and whole and complex and free: free from undue / unearned criticism, free to grow into its own unique form, free to mature the way an organic non-GMO plant does, bearing good fruit in its season and providing nourishment.



"isaiah... if you had your way, say if you were president of the world or something, we'd have people breaking rules all over the place and it would cause heartache and destruction. besides, even if it didn't cause such, you sound a lot like those hedonistic paganfaces: do what thou wilt but harm none. isn't that a little bit stupid / evil / selfish / carnal?"

i don't want that. i'm not proselytizing libertines; i'm assertively confronting the established norms, and recommending we educate and shape each other enough to trust each other to form our own tools for forming our own norms. like the topless Eucharist-takers in Kenya. like the shameless but also harmless ass-slappers from Estonia. like the socklint-pickers from the south side.

like the grey-area advocates from the seedy moonlit underbelly of bloggendom.