You know, when they have already submitted it before they even talk to you. Then, they pretend to be dommies because they’ve heard women like that. Their heart’s not in it, so they try too hard, over-do it and in the next moment give up trying because they’re obviously doing it wrong… Domming, I mean. They don’t truly want to be that guy, but because that’s what “women” want… You know, the universal, uniform, lock-step collective of the female gender.
And sure, I’m sure there are women in those circles pretending to like being dommed because they saw 50 Shades of Gray and believe that’s what men want, and once you’ve let yourself be defecated on and furnificated, he’ll reveal he’s a millionaire and wants to marry you. To be fair, I haven’t seen the movie.
“One is much like another,” said Jeeves about Aberdeen terriers, but most men seem to think that way about women. You’re just another option. Nothing special, nothing worth to actually get to know. They’re past 30, they know women, right? I say I know men, but fuck they’re not all the same. Not even by a long shot. They all want to fuck, but in what way, why… Different strokes for different…
I make it easy for them tho. I talk about myself so much… and they talk about themselves so little. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, you know, but that someone is like a reverse radio. No… Feedback. Nothing real. Just someone listening.
And I can’t really blame them. It’s much the same way when I get all tongue-tied with someone I really like. I let him talk because… You know, what am I in comparison? Maybe my data is from 2004, tho. When was the last time I’ve actually spoken to someone… Or rather, been spoken to?
Maybe I like celebrities because there’s so much information. You already know all the impressive stuff. Then again, those guys who I have fallen for without them having to say a damned thing to make that happen. I don’t know. I’m just wondering if these guys could actually be interesting. If I were interested enough to ask about something. I just figure that if they had something interesting to say, surely they’d say something… A hint. Something. Just to see if I’d fish.
We’re watching this Netflix show… Maybe it’s a Prime, I can’t remember. Fake. An Aussie thing. About a guy whose stories are seemingly complete BS and a woman who has trust issues but forces herself to trust him, only to be… Brutally dumped? We haven’t gone that far yet. But the conversations. Blah blah blah blah blah. “I really want to be with you. I love you. You’re wonderful.” Yada yada yada. Do they even know how trite they sound? He’s supposed to be this master seducer, but he couldn’t be more boring if he tried. Like you really would need to be starving for attention and affection to go with it. But then again, he maybe a polygynist variety of a horn bag. They tend to bore me for reals.
I mean, when people mean it, and my brother pointed this out at the ripe mature age of 17 about another TV series… “I like it,” he said: “because they stutter and get tongue-tied when they’re talking about difficult stuff.” I can’t remember exactly what he said, but something to that effect. It was about singles… Relativity Theory I think… Let me see if I can find an IMDB of it… No, Relativity. 1996-1997. Good one it was.
The point being is that I’m not sure if some of these people I’ve “charmed” have ever felt anything even resembling love. I mean I’m hardly the luckiest-on-surface woman on the planet (my TrEmoRs rock my world in spirit but you can’t see that,) but at least I’ve loved. Felt things. Know how it feels. It’s a blessing in itself, even if it comes with a curse of the same size, it’s still… Better. I wouldn’t want to live an existence where you think you can say “I love you” without it being delivered with your entire soul.
I don’t want to sound like I’m bored with men, love, sex, relationships… No, I could never. What I’m bored with is people who MAKE the most exciting things in life boring as doing the laundry. I’m sure I’ve gotten up a few times in the middle of an online love confession to do the laundry. I should, anyway. It’d be better.
And they just seem to wait for some magical moment when you’re supposed to realize that you’re in love with this guy. I mean. How patient do you have to be to wait around for months and months about some lightning bulb moment that makes it all worth it? Can’t even dump them because you don’t really have a relationship anyway. Like… “I don’t think we should be seeing each other anymore…” Like… Uh. He’d be like “Well we aren’t, are we?” “Well I guess not.” “Well we can then keep seeing each other, maybe more?” “NOOO.” You can’t ghost them because they’re impressed on how you’ve got a life and you’re not desperately attention hungry and clingy. You just get stuck because you answered an IM once.
Oh whatever. At least in real life you can pretend not to see them at the bar… But online. Gosh I miss a good night club filled with people of my own age. Now, you feel like you’re at a nursery. About 20 years ago!! A friend of mine knocked back a guy hitting on her: “You don’t remember me, do you?” “No?” He sounds hopeful they used to fuck and he’s so cool he’s forgotten. “I used to change your diapers when you were a kid.” “I’ll be off then.” He said and moved on. (Granted, she was like 2 years older than him, as her mom was a family day carer’s daughter.) Still. The worst brushoff ever me thinks. He’d be like 45 now. It’d be great to have him at a club. Not that I remember him, but 45 sounds awesome.
Anyway. I’m off to bed. Alone.
I wish myself nice dreams, but they rarely come on when I wish for them. I had a wonderful one a couple of days ago. Euge in his RL version. ;p