Of course we're all full of secrets.
One way outside, another way inside; the narrative is pretty old.
Undesirable qualities, unqualified desires.
Kinks.
Cuts.
Scars.
Stories.
That's where it ends.
It's off to a random start, a little bit of spiraling, going in circles, then slowly finding your center, your focal point, your real thought.
I'm not really thinking when I'm writing this. There's going to be a lot of edits after this goes out. This isn't a story. This isn't some random note in my notebook that I can write about and then just forget. This is deeper, more important, more delayed, more needed. Feral. That is the word I will start with.
Feral is how I think I will be. Feral, starved, demanding, voracious. Voracious is an accurate description. There is an appetite for everything. Back to thought. Feral. Feral is accurate. There is a longing for things delayed far too long. That's why you used the word 'longing', genius. Reeling thought back in. Feral is accurate. Feral. Is. Accurate. Feral is how I will be. Animalistic, is how I will probably look. There, now we have a thought.
All my life, I have been conditioned to thinking about how completely 'rough' I look. No, rough is not the right word. Womanium videos are playing in the background. Hard to concentrate with Math in the air. The truth is, I have been conditioned to think about how I look but I've always been able to turn that off in my head whenever looking a certain way didn't matter.
But here, doing that, there's really no hiding it. Feral is exactly how I will look. For someone who doesn't even make the first move in asking people to join them for a group project, it's surprising what a strong, aggressively-approaching character I can evolve into. I come off strong. Have always. There's no denying it. Is there an absolute ton of effort that goes into softening whatever my first reaction or instinct in situations is? Yes. Do people still think it's "too strong"? Yes. So imagine the unfiltered version. Now imagine that you're only imagining it now and with me, it's the only thing that's going on in my mind ALL. DAY. LONG.
Sometimes, I think it would be great to say the words that I won't. To curse, to shout, to say all the nasty things that I bite my lip trying not to say instinctively. And to say the other words too. Words that ring with feeling and desire and yes, nasty things, but things that somehow we seem to fall more and more in love with. Humans are weird.
I am aware of my lack of "lists" for people. Serious Runaway-Bride tendencies here... As someone very aptly said "make a list of things you like in a person, obsess over them for a while, then move on". I have now been reminded by about 5 people much too recently that I need lists for things like this "just in case", so perhaps I should make one. But what's the point? Anything I can really think of to gauge someone on is something no civil person really can before it's too late. Here goes nothing. Actually, here goes everything:
Feral. There must be some kind of ferocity there with me. I think I do see things sudden and rushed and, in that moment, wanted like something that must be consumed and claimed and taken every bit of like you're never going to get the chance to be with again. Feral. Brutal. Intense.
Am I kind of crazy with it? God, what if I look too... desperate? No, I don't think "desperate" is the right word here. What does one look like when they're kind of too straightforward and just ready for something? Not shy, not dainty or naïve or just restrained in any way at all. Maybe I'm just struggling with what women are expected to be like when that happens. Or maybe I'm just trying too hard to be "not like all girls" instead about when that happens. Or maybe I'm just imagining a fantasy that in actuality would never never play out the way I think it does in my mind.
Yeah, so thinking doesn't help. And great, one more problem unlocked. I think A LOT when I shouldn't be. Sometimes thinking isn't the best thing to do about something that's happening at the moment. Sometimes it's easier to just follow your instincts when you're not really sure what your body is supposed to be doing. And maybe sometimes it's okay not to take the lead and it's okay not to have to take control and it's okay to not have to move things forward. But that's what I'm telling myself. The other person, needs to everything opposite so I can do all this myself. And somehow, that's never the equation I'm looking at.
Okay, too much feelings, back to the nasty stuff.
I'm almost convinced by now that my mind is putting up a façade in front of my body. I think I do want it to happen. I'd be lying if there are times I don't almost see myself doing it. I think that's wrong English. Don't see myself doing it? I mean I do. I'd be lying if I don't. To say it is always on my mind, is still an understatement. Yeah, that's how bad. I should be kept in a cage.
Vulnerability. I've got it! Open, I can do. Vulnerability, nope. Never. That's where everything really turns into truth. And bareness. And realness. And I don't do that. Lay me bare, I'm fine. Lay my feelings bare, I will put a stake through my own heart.
And of course human bodies are designed in the most awkward ways possible to permit all this. How does it all even work? How can anyone at all feel fine and easy and comfortable during the whole thing? What if something gets hurt? What if someone just doesn't fit anywhere or something? To feel comfortable in my own skin is such a rare concept. Its usually ignoring how every fiber of your being would like to escape your body.
I lost my trail of thought. No gory details yet (I think). Will have to rewrite. And why doesn't that come as a surprise...
