in those little stories I was writing, there are all kinds of mistakes and miscues and misunderstandings that I flip around to be funny or illuminating in some unexpected sideways way - I'm on a break from the writing - I'm focusing more on feeling things (physically). what is real? in one story there's a tattoo, but not really, it's a misunderstanding of why a mid century sex chair is sitting in front of a mirror which had nothing to do with sex, it was the result of a real life conversation I had with an erectile dysfunction doctor who told me all about how obsessed some women are with what their vulva look like and apparently get lip plumpers on both kinds of lips, which is probably just as weird looking, I would think, as it is on everybody's face when they do it - I mean, have you ever seen lip plumper that doesn't look like lip plumper?? - so I took a look 🤷🏻♀️ and it looks like any other vagina, I think, I don't know, I haven't looked at very many - dudes look at their junk all the time and apparently are going and getting lip plumper for that too, there's this whole off labeled use of lip plumper that I was completely unaware of which I found fascinating enough to move the chair over by the mirror. all I found was that I have a streak that matches the streak on my head where you wouldn't see it straight on and I thought if I was in love with that person, I would probably be in love with that streak, but at the same time, I thought maybe I should try a brazilian wax because I read that women are doing that now as part of masturbation - like instead of more stimulation, make it even more sensitive and lean that way ('proceed gingerly') - and it probably would make the tattoo a little less weird to get if it was just skin everywhere so if I had to untie one side of my panties, it really wouldn't, ya know, there wouldn't be as clear of a borderland between skin you see and skin you generally don't, so that's two reasons to rip it all off. as days go by and the weather warms (tries to) I think more and more about that tattoo and maybe getting it anyway.
in other words, 🤷🏻♀️ I have no idea
I guess I got two break-ups, the one I was gung-ho about and then chose as my rebound a rebreak of injuries clearly not set well in the first place. I got the wave of 'gets skinnier and hellbent' (break 1) then some 'new wardrobe' (break 2), and now here I am living in Vegas because rebound/ex dude hit me with a full 'Gina' which makes sense only in this particular barely = there is nobody to talk to (as in, 'this is crazy right?!'/find ways to laugh). so I make evvvvveerybody laugh. it's an al-anon stage: I look like a million bucks outa some weird primal spite (against Death), with my mind and heart blown wide open, high as a kite on endorphins whenever possible with tens style jolts of Alive af randomly hitting, 7ish on the pain scale when added all up.
welp, they'll all exhaust me soon enough, arriving before enough coffee always
