Pretenses, Trinkets and Smoke
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Breathe in, breathe out.
Sadness closes around me like a fist around a faded blossom. Sky and Earth melt into one dark all-encompassing Everything.
10:01 p.m. - 2009-05-03
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Reality Bites
When I was young I had no access to public sex. I heard about raunchy foam parties from hearsay, from gossipy magazines whispering loudly about an alleged orgy somewhere. The pictures in my head were those of glamorous long-legged, long-haired beauties with smoky eyes that sauntered with the confidence of a catwalk model. I imagined men who were healthy, clean and attractive sitting amidst ribbons of smoke.
In reality, those parties are full of fruits, and not the banana types either. Pale, apple-shaped bodies, wrapped in lacy black things; they move gingerly because they are not sure on how to proceed. Pale, pear-shaped bodies, doing the same or radiating the earthy lustiness one would attribute to the proverbial tavern wench. Apples and pears, pears and apples. And the men, the men! Those men you ride with in public trains but never really see. Only now they're almost naked, and you think it's good that they have to have their clothes on outside.
No, there's little glamor to be found in sex clubs. Once I saw a pair came in, they wanted to be seen. She's lithe and her gait, unlike that of the other women in the club, said Look-At-Me. He had a kind of tuxedo with the chest bared and the good looks of a Vegas stage dancer. They moved among the masses of round fruits and the masses congregated around them. He spanked her, rather theatrically, she raised her head in throes of stage pain; it looked like a playboy photo-spread coming alive. But I guess they did not only want to be seen, they wanted to see as well. Shortly afterwards they departed and the fruits rolled back into the different rooms they had just abandoned.
9:18 a.m. - 2009-04-30
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Rejection Letter #9
Another impersonal mail filled with excuses, this time "We have had so many applicants." The anti discrimination law is a double-edged sword. None of these guys would ever tell me what they really think, although I'd like to know. Was I too chatty in the interview, or did I come across as aloof? Are my qualifications not good enough or they have no interest in a married thirty year old woman who's surely surely on the verge of getting pregnant?
The world is a funny place. You meet all kinds of people ill-suited for their jobs, people too stupid to make a rational decision on the spot (Example: it's 6 pm in winter, it's getting dark. Do I force this thirteen-year old schoolgirl with a cello on her back out of the train in the middle of nowhere because she has forgotten to bring her ticket, or do I get her address and send the fine notice there?) Yet these people have a job, and I don't. Sometimes I feel that all you've got to do is lie your way to the other side of the door.
12:40 p.m. - 2009-04-29
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