Multiply

Well, I have been persuaded to join a new online community called "Multiply" - a very suitable name. I'm a little bit shocked by all the gay porn & related items that seem to be popular tags on that site. Not that my sensibilities are so delicate, but I hate it when people spring porn, or their sexual preferences, on you. I never mix porn with light entertainment. Porn is a serious business, and like any other serious business it must be conducted, and executed with utmost planning & care.

"Hi, my name is Mike and I enjoy fisting & watersports."

"Oh, gee Mike. Nice to meet you, too."

That's not the way to go about porn, nor advocating your preference.

I believe to rebuff with a 'piss off' followed by an angelic smile on such an occasion is to add insult to injury... Though, I believe I would not hesitate to do so. I must yield to my irrational whims. But, I digress.

I think it's a lovely site, though. Lovely, but weird. It's porn in a dollhouse. Porn in an idyll niche on the Internet; a friends network of people you know IRL. I don't want to know the preferences of my friends. Heck, I do not want to know those of strangers. My idealism is a bit bruised, and to see preferences bruited about like that is not good for my faith in mankind. I will survive, at any rate.

At the very least, I will chuckle at the pictures that are supposed to turn me on... Har Har Har.

Autobiographical Nonsense: Blurbs on Life

This is the definitive
And authorized biography
Of Man.
No doubt it will be
(Much to your displeasure)
Less action-packed
(Than the works of
Well-established authors);
Supplying a mass
Of relevant detail
On the life of Man
Whose unity endures
In the face of Choices,
Decisions, Desires
(Notwithstanding ample
Tears of Laughter,
Of Joy, impending disaster,
Multiple meanings
In individual words &
phrases within
lines of life.)
Enjoy the read.
Shed a tear,
Or crack a smile.
It will most certainly be
The last thing you'll ever read.

E.

Silence

I have grown weary of communicating; and paradoxically enough I choose to air my discontent through writing. How can that statement be viewed as 'true' when it is in itself an act of communication? Does it nullify any irritation I have experienced? It is odd. As of late I have less and less inclination to use my 'voice' whether literally or figuratively. I am not breaking the silence - at least, I do not experience this act as such. I am merely projecting my thoughts into this medium. Telepathy is still, unfortunately, beyond my power - and though I feel reluctant to communicate I still experience the urge to make my preference known. At work I spent eight hours, if not more, talking. Talking, talking, talking. Knitting an endless shawl of worn words. I love words. But one can have too much of something - even of something one adores.

Woof Woof Woof

Once again my mind drifts to my job. As of late work demands a considerable part of my time. As it stands at the moment I am too tired to even write some caustic remark about work. I will steer clear from rabid dogs, for I know they will surely bite.

An infection is the very last thing I need.