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03.30.01 2:30 p.m.

"The worst things: To be in bed and sleep not; To want for one who comes not; To try to please and please not."

 -Egyptian Proverb 

I am in my healing socialization stage. Basically, I am flirting in an effort to expand my social sphere (it was a social circle, but it feels three dimensional now). I am, of course, still being OCD picky. I must maintain the structural integrity of the expanding sphere, after all.
Oh, and it turns out Dulcinea will play a part in my life. Be patient, dear reader, all in good time.
In Global Politics, I kept feeling the pull of Fate directing me to go to the lounge as soon as was possible. So, at 12:14 and 45 seconds (the class ends at 12:15), I had my coat on and my books packed away, prepared to dart. Understand that I had no expectations that something was actually occurring in the lounge, I remain blissfully ignorant of the college sponsored events.
When I arrived at the lounge, as I have been foreshadowing/dropping anvils, there was a diversity day going on. I decided to skip Pagans United for Religious Education (PURE) and some work and tarry at this event. On a side note, PURE should have attended the diversity day, as they are so hard up to fight the "constant discrimination" they feel they face. When I popped into PURE during an intermission, they were speaking - at length - about how class photos had to be altered because one of the class officers proudly flipped the photographer off. Yet they wonder why no one takes them seriously and they have so few members. Erg.
Back to the point with a small flashback. Tuesday, when I was being dragged deep in a sea of depression by giant jellyfish (read prior entries, I'm alluding) and was waiting in the lobby of Hudson Hall for my little brother to get out of the ASSET test, I saw a girl come out of the elevator who looked like a pleasant ex-co-worker of mine from the museum, who had taken classes at Dutchess last semester and I had not seen since. I greeted her, relatively happy considering the sodden jelly covered mess my brain was. Understand, too, that I did not go to the optometrist until Wednesday. People more than 15 feet away are blurry. I have said as much here.
This girl, clearly, was not my ex-co-worker. She was shorter, younger, and had a sweeter look about her. Embarrassed, I explained that I needed glasses and didn't, in fact, know her. She smiled and said, "No, you don't. It's okay." Got it? Good.
We will call her Artemis, owing to her artistic bend and resemblance to a certain goddess's attributes. Well, Artemis was not only attending diversity day, she won a prize for her poster. Yum.
I decided that Fate wanted me to know her as I encountered her twice in two days when I had never seen her before (that I recall) and that I found her appealing, in that I wished to involve her in my sphere. However, she left the conference a few minutes before it ended/I got nerve enough to want to talk to her. Conceding defeat to my sense of apprehension, I snagged Todd and headed off to work. As we exited the lounge, lo and behold we beheld Dulcinea! So Todd snagged/jump-on Dulcinea (who I now am going to ask to use her real name, since she evidently is going to become a part of this) and she started to walk with us toward the library. When we got outside, I looked to the lower courtyard and who should I spy but Miss Artemis (hee!) entering the cafe. Steeling my nerve, I grabbed Todd and took a shortcut down. He called me a spaz and I insisted that he must not mean it in the pejorative sense. He agreed with an "I'm just sayin'."
(okay, this is actually a funny story. You'll like this. Todd, Zack, Stevehen and I were hanging out Wednesday morning and Zack revealed his theory that you can get away with murder using the defense "But ya Hona, I'm just sayin'!"; that "I'm just sayin'" explains away nearly anything.)
So I finally caught up to Artemis, who was getting food with some adult. As Dulcinea was there, I beseeched her feminine advice, which can be encapsulated by "Be confident and say hi." Hey, works for me. So I sidled in there to the salad island she was stationed at and said, "Hi, I am the guy who thought you were someone else." She remembered me, we engaged in a brief, not too awkward conversation wherein I asked her is she was any relation of my ex-co-worker and informed her that I had gone to get glasses. She said that it was very nice to meet me and now she would know me when she next saw me. Grateful it ended so pleasantly, I walked away, not gleeful but not squished.
I found Todd and Dulcinea again, told them how it went, and we somehow ended up in the bookstore where Stevehen appeared. Dulcinea tried to convince me that I should have given Artemis my number. However, Dulcinea informed me she was in a class with her and would feel out Artemis and give her my number if the moment seemed right. I was highly appreciative and realized I kind of click with Dulci. I'd be very glad to count her among my friends, especially since she volunteered to be my courier.
This is what happens when I chose to say I don't think someone is going to play a part in my life. I must learn not to bait Fate.

Since I write this stream of consciousness and not chronologically (except that you only get one entry a day), we are going to now travel back to the diversity program. During one of the intermissions, I was filling Todd in about my life. He said something that so echoed how I feel. He stated that, all throughout his formative years, TV, books, movie, basically any media lied to him. It made him believe that girls wanted the romantic, committal guy so he shaped himself to be that way (though, you know, he likes boys and all). But it was a huge falsehood, a Hollywood dream on par with fending off alien invasion. Girls want absolutely nothing to do with such men, they want the abusive arseholes who will fuck them and their little sister and leave them in the dirt. These are the men they will come back to; these are the men they desire. They may lament how terrible this man is for them, but they make no effort to leave him. They may claim they want some charming fellow who will love them into their golden years, but they push away this exact type. When they do encounter a sweet, romantic, caring guy, supposedly what they are looking for, they will have nothing to do with him because he is not hurting them. It's sick, but so true.

Obviously I am not the "hook-up" type. As we have seen physicality sans sincere, positive emotions make me sick and hurt. However, owing to my conversations with several female friends, I have been led to ponder over this. They have all pretty near stated that they want someone to fuck them and not be there in the morning. Even Kate increasingly seems to desire them, when she was once a bastion to me of sincere affect (this completely the one requisite mention of Kate. You may breathe a sigh of relief and move on).
It is not as though I do not want physical affection. Gods do I ever, more and more each day. However, I am not about to hurt or feed into some girl's complex merely to get my rocks off, as the colloquialism goes. I want something real and evolving, not a different face every weekend.
I do not buy into this polygamist over-justification that human beings are animals and animals at not suppose to have just one partner. Bloody hell, look at swans! Look at wolves! Look at lions! Look at penguins! Even monkeys, our closest animal relative! All bloody monogamous. We are sentient. We have complex emotions. If you want to just shag someone and leave him or her by the wayside, do him or her, us, his or her future lover, and the whole bleeding world a favor. Stay home and masturbate, don't fuck somebody up because your mother never hugged you enough.
Furthermore, no one needs to fuck half their campus to figure out who they are and what they want. Not only is that unbelievably dangerous and stupid, but completely unnecessary. Erikson would thwack you in head from the Otherside! Figure out who you are. I'm going to bet it is not a vacuous whore. If you think that is the way to go, look at any HBO special about prostitutes and you'll think better of that lifestyle choice.
To paraphrase Stevehen (well, to apply the spirit of his statement to another situation) "You aren't polygamist/looking for a cuddle buddy/the 'hook-up' type, you are just horny."
I'm more than a little bit sexual but I deal with it in ways that don't fuck up society. If you for a moment think fucking some random person is going to make you feel better, try befriending someone who has been raped. What you are doing is emotionally little better. If you can still fathom hurting someone like that, hurting yourself like that, after staying up until three listening to someone you care about throwing up out of disgust, you are what is wrong with society. You are not a human being and I will not give you the respect of one.
Of course, if you are reading this journal, I'm going to hope you are a far better creature than the one I have described. If you are not, never come here again, I do not like you and you smell like feet.
I know how sick the world can be. I volunteer my time and tiny bits of my sanity for a group called, and have personally witnessed the atrocities sick people can do to the innocent. Every time I get a group shut down, I feel that maybe I have stopped one little boy or girl from being abducted and raped. It never will go away for these children, no amount of time and therapy is going to make it 100% better, some part of them will always be violated. So when I see some self-proclaimed stud of either gender trolling for their next conquest, I know they have no idea how much they are really effecting the world. How much that unsuspecting, probably drunk/drugged conquest is never really going to be free of the pain and shame they feel.
I can't give in to this, I never will. What is the point of fighting if it isn't the good fight?

reading: i feel sick #1
listening: From the Choirgirl Hotel
listening: To protect the world from itself.
interesting thought: Innocence can't be lost it just needs to be maintained. moment of zen: walking past a reflective window in the library and realizing that the gently smiling creature I saw on the other side with the wisps on blond hair encircling their face was me.

Thomm Quackenbush is an author and teacher in the Hudson Valley. Double Dragon publishes four novels in his Night's Dream series (We Shadows, Danse Macabre, and Artificial Gods, and Flies to Wanton Boys). He has sold jewelry in Victorian England, confused children as a mad scientist, filed away more books than anyone has ever read, and tried to inspire the learning disabled and gifted. He is capable of crossing one eye, raising one eyebrow, and once accidentally groped a ghost. When not writing, he can be found biking, hiking the Adirondacks, grazing on snacks at art openings, and keeping a straight face when listening to people tell him they are in touch with 164 species of interstellar beings. He likes when you comment.

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