All of a sudden, being “real” hit me like a punch in the gut. J is upstairs, mystery on in the background, seeking to fall asleep. I’m watching YouTube videos and reading a bit of lesbian erotica (pornography ) written by Avery Cassell. The short book is called The Solstice Gift: Berouz And Lucky On The Longest Night.
Cassell is a gifted engaging writer. She offers a look into the LGBTQ World that I wish I could join in. I would love to sip herb tea and eat artisan cakes in one of the little coffee shops where she places the action. Can I be queer for just a little while? I promise to behave.
So being a conformist lasted about five hours until I imagined myself an outsider again.
I live in a multi-layered world where I am an anomaly; conventional middle age man in sexless marriage reads of sexual outlaws, vicariously admiring the outlaws’ search for intimacy and connection with a partner or partners.
I fear the ever increasing reach of technology while at the same time enjoying the benefits of the digital world.
There will be more to say, I am sure. But I don’t have to be an eccentric of my own crafting any longer. I can be curious about all worlds without becoming an odd ball.
Sure. But what specifically?