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Icarus's blog: "Augurs, Martyrs, and Agnostics"

created on 03/10/2011  |  http://fubar.com/augurs-martyrs-and-agnostics/b340021  |  8 followers

[Self inflicted wounds]

I don't particularly want to say how
I don't particularly want to say with who...

but I think I made two deliberate plays to NOT have sex...
or at least I put myself in a position where it was a much less distinct possibility.

I'll let you digest that information for a moment.

Emotionally vulnerable, or judgement-compromised women are not my bag.

I mean they ARE... but
you'd have to be a bit of a sleaze to take that opportunity.

I did however use the phrase "let's go to bed"
and froze with terror after having uttered that...

"Well not us- er, I meant you, because we can't have you sleeping on the porch"

yeah...
turns out even in my comfort zone I'm awkward. XD
It's hard not -trying- to act cool around an old crush.
Even if we both know it wouldn't work.

And when I -try- to act cool, I stammer, and I jumble, and I sit unnaturally, and I do a lot of unnatural things.

In other news...

I made a spanish marinated steak.
with fried brown rice
blanched spinach
and artichokes

It was delicious.

Of course I fried the rice in the beef juice!

And I told a practical stranger my woes.

The big woes.
The whoa woes.

He had about the same reaction most people do.

... maybe I am that nice, earnest guy everyone keeps telling me I am.

Or I'm just getting really good at faking it.

I'd tell you to decide, but you probably already have.


But in three more months no one will be asking me to come over, or try to talk me into group sex, hard drugs, and bad music.

Unless I find another mingle.
Which could happen.

Talked about chemistry.
And the beautiful girls that hurt us.
... and that you may just have to sacrifice one, two, or a dozen magnetic flames to make it stop hurting.
Tastes can change. And in some cases they have to.

In my semi-sober state I want to make it a point to declare that:
It smells like woman over there. Young woman.
And my rutting, prowling nature does get a bit on edge with that...

I'd also like to say:
I feel like I don't know what comes next.
I guess I keep working.
Keep hanging out.
Keep painting.
Keep writing.
Keep waiting by my mailbox...

The invite to be a live-in cook/field-hand/village-father/mason stands.
... and apparently some guy has a bajillion dollars (local business owner) and ... WANTS to build the commune.

That kinda makes it a lot easier.
But it does have those untrustworthy elements of myth, fantasy and pipe-dream.

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