Yes, I was drinking gasoline, mother.

In the company of women

I enjoyed my entire night. I spent most of it with women. Didn't realize it at first, but all those nice moments singular and collective were so randomly different and so deeply comfortable solely because of gender.
No question, women have the headlock on communication. Whether good at it or not, you better be. Just kind of cool that chicks have that unique loophole in relating to one another because of common denominators. Men don't have that. Our bodies and their consequences surpass all other differences. No matter how much animosity there may be, not many women would leave another woman in the bathroom if she was in distress. Weak example, but an accurate one.
Tj asked me one night why I hate women so much. I didn't have a definite answer because I had never been asked before. Good fucking question, I thought.
Later, a blog response I wrote pulled it together. It was about an issue that dealt specifically with women, and gave me full authority to relate because it directly impacts my body.
The anger I have is admittedly self-centric. All those bullshit ideals that I have to watch secondly perpetuated - make and keep my life very difficult.
I am proof that things can change, and don't feel too guilty resonating that with every (okay, every other 4) girlish slap to my face.

And just tonight,
Though I do promote a lot of negativity about my gender, it is because, without question, we are united by default AND REALLY USE IT, yet still can't get it together.
A lot of it's vanity, I would assume.
If I knew, boy, if I only knew - and if vanity's all it is - well, then there really is no solution that doesn't involve a needle.
Hey, even if I choose not to look permanently surprised in my 40s, at least, I'll have the paraphrenalia to go out like a fucking rock star.

Friday- F.M.- There was "no static at all" with the womenfolk tonight.
No competition. Nice, though unfortunately rare, I really, really hate that shit.
Men have great conversations with each other, but they're not the same. Women naturally go straight for the sordid and personal (not in that order) more quickly, if not immediately. I like that. Maybe men don't, in my experiences they haven't with each other, and I think that's too bad. The fact that women are less pronounced as a contender in life as opposed to one of it's potential prizes, changes the inclusion of understanding. It is kept separate largely because it's considered unimportant (okay, mis understood- if that sounds better), unless convenient, or conveniently complicated for personal distraction.
The differences really aren't that imposing.
The petty carats and better sponges do keep it so, and
for good reason -
When a women is talking to you, really, honestly saying something to you - there is an intimacy that transcends almost all voluntary action.
Strange that something like that can be overpowered by killing flowers, mining rocks, and taking all the fucking fun out of cocoa (I don't have the energy to make that one global. Sorry, just not tonight, I mean, today.)

Okay, Eso, there are some. Not many, but some. (Hell, I'll keep saying that even if they become millions, cause it'll honestly never be enough.) It began with you tonight, actually.
I was given a knock, and was gruntled. I have been given a couple lately. Enough to doubt. Some close, but however (now that I think about it) none female.
I was told that I was too strong.
You know what. Maybe it's something only gay men and women can understand.
Being treated like a little bitch, it's an acquired reaction. Most people, who really know what it's like, wouldn't choose it without thinking they had to, or wouldn't be a lot worse off if they didn't, and even under those circumstances, wouldn't outwardly resent.


I sold you short tonight, Estella.
Thank you, you crazy, crazy bitch.
Thank you.