There was no Chasing Amy reveal.
A trio of half-effort normies rejected by, quote, "An absurd woman." Whose absurdity was exactly correct.
Black wings and false halos tickle-flog an exhibitionist to an anticlimactic crescendo.
Many pairs of double-exes in stock fetish gear. Latex carbon copies with palette-swapped permutations.
The slow wandering of compressed miniature water mammals.
The boxiness of vibration. Loud enough to drown out the tinnitus and head radio. The volume the same as the slow psychic gain of liquefied bad decisions.
Being mistaken for a hunter in a niche culture. A misestimation of kindness and customer service. She was kind. And a salesperson.
Paunchiness framed by white fishnet and singular faux-leather straps. There are few edges among the ex-why.
Many smiles, curious glances. More than once, I see decision-making war with itself in my periphery, before deciding it's a better idea to leave me alone.
Good choice.
An obese man. A disgusting man. Jowls camouflaged by a goatee and framed by an expanse of blue. His hurried waddle to sit and observe the backroom performances. Watching the slow and inverted acclimation of stinging.
Of course, there is a kilt. There's always a kilt. And it's never just one.
Brief and exaggerated strikes against insulation and cheap latex is greeted by half-hearted cheers of validation. Performativity from everyone.
Well-practiced and uninspired acro-yoga in synthetic mist. Synchronized, rhythmic, peak fertility. Difficult to determine whether it's art, or a shard wedged between narcissism and actualization.
Working as intended.
I fail at reading comprehension. It's hard to unravel the difference between hunger and appreciation that gilds the faces of faces.
Countless clouds of vapor and smoke by a placid pool The chatter challenges the music, pairs with the epilepsy.
An eight-year tenured security guard monolgues with little prompting. Desperate for a break from more of the same. He just wants to be heard. His moralizing having exactly the flavor of jaded one might expect.
I excuse myself polite, and thank him for his time.
A handful of Overton trinkets as a support, and a kindness. Thinking of Others. A table of magnetic roses is the first to empty.
As the space continues to fill, another wallflower annexes a corner. A slight and painfully plain man. He exhales his anxiety when he thinks no one can see. In fairness, it's a lot to take in. People surely think we are similar, if not the same.
Perhaps we are. In temperament, if not aura.
The clock whiles the osmosis of ethanol. The infection spreads. Hypnotic joy coursing through limbs, The Here-Now in upturned, lidded eyes. There is comfort in this space. To be Whoever They Want. Even if only for a little while.
Pools of kindred spirits merging, sharing, bifurcating, laughing.
It is, when present, a wonder to behold.
*
The novelty wears off before the finale, and the impetus of my intrusion.
My absconscion is benign.
I don't belong. Despite my lengthy and perpendicular efforts to recapture the impudence and utterly banal uniqueness of youth.
But then. The formula sorts itself, when solving for (Variable:Wallflowering).
4:09 p.m. - 2022-11-18
Recent entries:
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Chapter: Sigma - 2022-11-25
Too Full for Timely Gratitude - 2022-11-25
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