"We don't want ordinary cripples-- only elite ones." -- Will Self
Defy Amazon and Walmart every so often. Defy convenience. I did and went kitsch, having never owned my own beret. Clap with small happiness. Perhaps I should ship Jerry one as an apologia for subversively highlighting his online profile. Not sure if he'd look foolish in a beret these days. I give myself permission to love his memory. I only know Susan through him. Susan and I went here. For Susan. Those kind of references. When I was an idiot and we were all young, I espied a glimpse of her. Susan Saint Jame-ish, like this.
Kowtow as a gesture of respect. A woman who can wield a leash that well deserves it, not that I offer much in the way of forbidden fruit. Even now, discussing it in the most abstract sense, I cannot picture me and Jerry sleeping together. Sin? Guilt? Terror over defiling an authority figure? An unwillingness to accept that more functional individuals are vulnerable, just as I? Mmm. The naked ape, producer of laughs, absurdio reductio, complicit in so many escape valves.
I am on the look out for a roommate or two.
Now, if you are lesbian, and can handle that I reject your orientation, I am still willing to split expenses. Lay a hand on me and it's your culpability which places you at risk, not mine, however --not that I assume the butch league is falling over itself to help me make a fresh change, but one never knows.
No comments:
Post a Comment