07-17-02 - 9:15 p.m.
i suddenly feel worldly, filled with new insight; enlightened! i imagine myself touring the country, lecturing at a podium (the venue has yet to be established...a library?...bar?...solidarity meeting?...planned parenthood?), extolling the pitfalls of illicit love. my audience, a mix of seething, matronly ex-wives of cheating CEO's and smug, knowing ex-mistresses of cheating CEO's, will, at various intervals, either stone or applaud me.
in another fantasy, i'm the cover art of a trashy 50's sex novel, a lusty, bouffonted babe in a skimpy negligee, abandoned in rumpled disarray on the bed of a seedy hotel room. outside the tattered curtains; blinking neon: HOURLY RATES. a smartly suited guy with a shadowed face is going out the door. THURSDAY MORNING VIXEN, it says. SHE SOLD HER SOUL FOR HIS LYING, CHEATING HEART!
reality? he put me in a box constructed of beautiful dreams, and at the risk of destroying what he values most, played with me when it was safe and right for him. i was a willing captive. i just outgrew the box.
don't mind me. i get this way when i drink.