Paneer Tunneling

"And just as he was about to faint and gain at last one moment of oblivion, the motion stopped, and he would struggle instead against the pressure on his throat." Where Angels Fear To Tread, page 118

My repugnance toward my former fiance must have stimulated the last of my energies, but I regret allowing him to penetrate me anally with the fingers of his one remaining hand. Either I dislike anal sex or realized I had more esteem at the time than annihilation would warrant, and have forgiven him in his child-like misogyny. Frank is an imbecile, but one of the rewards of fucking imbeciles is applying pressure. Glutton guilt does the rest.

I can write this, write the post I wrote yesterday with its searing brush burns of emotional scar tissue, and yet seriously question the morality of Forster's sadomasochistic enthusiasm, fully aware my battle is over before I sound the bugle. The very act of signing, to couch it in Calvino's referential playfulness, is subversive, and sparks anticipation-- yet Forster is an early 20th century black marketeer. He makes the pain of sodomy seem like a lucrative enjoyment. (I can hear Salon's sexually active contributors laughing at me. I am also considering submitting a column to them about the hostile environment I experienced at both disability center locations), draws his readers in better than any pornographic centerfold, and was one of the first modern homosexuals to promote colonial to native homoerotic courtships. E.M. Forster was "aggressively" gay, to echo Chuck Hagel. Aggressively gay before apes through HIV transmission created *unsafe sex* practices.

Sue Davison had a theory about homosexuality. "The whole world will turn homosexual eventually," this offered up nonchalantly while she glammed me up in the kitchen one day, before college. I do not know, recalling the memory, if she was sounding me out or just being a dumb bitch, but she always tried to help me build my esteem. The make up, objecting to my body hatred of my legs and buttocks. The only person who ever truly succeeded in helping me to take pride in myself, that I'll leave as the obvious and unstated.