Saturday, 15 May 2010
An unrescuable schizo
Shut up. Get over it. Man up. Stop bitching.
Done. Sorted. *happy happy*
Let's see how fast this thing can go
/Ignore_previous_ramblings
/Clear Memory
/Reboot
Done. Sorted. *happy happy*
Let's see how fast this thing can go
/Ignore_previous_ramblings
/Clear Memory
/Reboot
Adam
I've had this on my facebook notes for a while now, and it in turn came from a forum elsewhere, but I think it deserves a place on the blog, and it's a good piece of writing. Somedays I feel like one of Adam's boys. Most days I feel like Adam. You tell me if either of those are a good thing, or which is better.
Adam just wants to make sure he makes the best impression, Adam wants to know that everybody has seen his best side. Adam knows the importance of perception, and is very accommodating to the needs and desires of his friends. He ensures that his friends are told often how ready he is to to lend an ear, he let's them know how alike he is, and how lucky he, and they, are to have found each other. Adam tells you he needs you and you know you need him. Adam would never hurt anybody, he has been hurt enough. Adam has reams of tales of hurt and manipulation, and he opens up to his friends so readily, with so much emotion. In turn their hearts are rendered open, and they become one, they know their connection is real, unique, as it is with all his friends. Adam loves you, and you, and you, and you and needs you, and you, and you, and you.
England is a small country, Adam knows. Adam is well versed in travel, and loves to meet friends from all over the country. The further the better, why complicate things? Things only get complicated when friends are brought together, Adam knows this. Adam knows that things are easier to handle when those he loves are separate entities. Adam doesn't want to complicate things. Adam is the first to try and make things better, full of apologies and retractions, his ever-so-rare displays of emotion being let out, just for you, and you, and you, and you. Adam is afraid he's going to mess things up, so has to be extra careful. Adam knows he's found something special, but then, there are so many special things out there. So many special things and who is harmed if nobody knows? Not you, or you, or you, or you. Separate entities and separate worlds, they all know they are loved, they all know Adam needs them.
Adam cannot for blamed for his faults, Adam has a troubled past. Adam is so ready to discuss his secret, troubled past. Funny how easily he switches from traumatised to cheer, from sorrow to joy. He cannot be blamed. He is beautiful, intelligent, a flower crushed by outside forces. Everybody desires him, but he chose you, and you, and you, and you. He just wants to make the best impression. The best persona. The best fit. Adam just wants to make friends, sometimes they only want to be friends with a single man. Or a artistic man. Or a caring man. The best impression. Adam cannot be blamed for his beauty. He needs to surround himself with these people, who he loves ever so much, who want him ever so much, who remind him of his beauty. He tells them he needs them and as long as they need him nothing is wrong and no harm is done. No harm is done if they need him, these separate entities and separate worlds.
Adam has always known how to look after himself, but you know that he needs you. Adam knows he has to be able to shrug some of you off, but you think that he needs you. When you are such a sensitive and beautiful soul as Adam, there has to be some kind of damage control. When the separate entities communicate, somebody has to become the bad guy. And it won't be Adam, because he loves you, and you, and you, and you. One of you is lying, one of you is trying to hurt Adam, but Adam has done nothing wrong, he just needs you, and you, and you, and you. He is true to you, as much as he knows truth. He is true to the moment, true to the feeling, true to the impression, true to the persona. Adam knows that the truth only exists in action, but this truth need not be the same for all of his loves. Why should he be the same person when he the capacity to be many, many more? He is wonderful, skilled, kind, caring, he will be there as long as he needs you, as long as he needs you.
Adam has many enemies. Funny how they used to be friends. Funny how they fell out of favour. Funny how easy they were to throw away, when they became too complicated to maintain. Funny how it was always their fault. Their hate seems so strong, but why would anyone hate such a delicate creature? He has suffered so much, and still they hate. They are in the wrong, he has suffered so much, he must be protected from those that would do him harm.
But he's always looking for more friends, friends that won't listen to the liars that speak of manipulation. That speak of hurt. Adam says they are lies, he hopes you believe him. But you need Adam. You will believe him. Adam loves you, and you, and you, and you. And he just wants more to love, and more that will need him, and more to make him feel, make him feel, make him feel wanted and needed and needed, but Adam knows this will not be enough, this will never be enough, never enough while he still performs. While he still has to account for his many, many lives, many, many loves, none of them want the real Adam, the Adam that died years ago, the Adam that never saw the light of day, the Adam that was smothered in lies and manipulation and treachery, replaced by a leech, only desire to be wanted, but nobody will ever want you, Adam, because Adam no longer exists except in best impressions, personas, perceptions.
Adam just wants to make sure he makes the best impression, Adam wants to know that everybody has seen his best side. Adam knows the importance of perception, and is very accommodating to the needs and desires of his friends. He ensures that his friends are told often how ready he is to to lend an ear, he let's them know how alike he is, and how lucky he, and they, are to have found each other. Adam tells you he needs you and you know you need him. Adam would never hurt anybody, he has been hurt enough. Adam has reams of tales of hurt and manipulation, and he opens up to his friends so readily, with so much emotion. In turn their hearts are rendered open, and they become one, they know their connection is real, unique, as it is with all his friends. Adam loves you, and you, and you, and you and needs you, and you, and you, and you.
England is a small country, Adam knows. Adam is well versed in travel, and loves to meet friends from all over the country. The further the better, why complicate things? Things only get complicated when friends are brought together, Adam knows this. Adam knows that things are easier to handle when those he loves are separate entities. Adam doesn't want to complicate things. Adam is the first to try and make things better, full of apologies and retractions, his ever-so-rare displays of emotion being let out, just for you, and you, and you, and you. Adam is afraid he's going to mess things up, so has to be extra careful. Adam knows he's found something special, but then, there are so many special things out there. So many special things and who is harmed if nobody knows? Not you, or you, or you, or you. Separate entities and separate worlds, they all know they are loved, they all know Adam needs them.
Adam cannot for blamed for his faults, Adam has a troubled past. Adam is so ready to discuss his secret, troubled past. Funny how easily he switches from traumatised to cheer, from sorrow to joy. He cannot be blamed. He is beautiful, intelligent, a flower crushed by outside forces. Everybody desires him, but he chose you, and you, and you, and you. He just wants to make the best impression. The best persona. The best fit. Adam just wants to make friends, sometimes they only want to be friends with a single man. Or a artistic man. Or a caring man. The best impression. Adam cannot be blamed for his beauty. He needs to surround himself with these people, who he loves ever so much, who want him ever so much, who remind him of his beauty. He tells them he needs them and as long as they need him nothing is wrong and no harm is done. No harm is done if they need him, these separate entities and separate worlds.
Adam has always known how to look after himself, but you know that he needs you. Adam knows he has to be able to shrug some of you off, but you think that he needs you. When you are such a sensitive and beautiful soul as Adam, there has to be some kind of damage control. When the separate entities communicate, somebody has to become the bad guy. And it won't be Adam, because he loves you, and you, and you, and you. One of you is lying, one of you is trying to hurt Adam, but Adam has done nothing wrong, he just needs you, and you, and you, and you. He is true to you, as much as he knows truth. He is true to the moment, true to the feeling, true to the impression, true to the persona. Adam knows that the truth only exists in action, but this truth need not be the same for all of his loves. Why should he be the same person when he the capacity to be many, many more? He is wonderful, skilled, kind, caring, he will be there as long as he needs you, as long as he needs you.
Adam has many enemies. Funny how they used to be friends. Funny how they fell out of favour. Funny how easy they were to throw away, when they became too complicated to maintain. Funny how it was always their fault. Their hate seems so strong, but why would anyone hate such a delicate creature? He has suffered so much, and still they hate. They are in the wrong, he has suffered so much, he must be protected from those that would do him harm.
But he's always looking for more friends, friends that won't listen to the liars that speak of manipulation. That speak of hurt. Adam says they are lies, he hopes you believe him. But you need Adam. You will believe him. Adam loves you, and you, and you, and you. And he just wants more to love, and more that will need him, and more to make him feel, make him feel, make him feel wanted and needed and needed, but Adam knows this will not be enough, this will never be enough, never enough while he still performs. While he still has to account for his many, many lives, many, many loves, none of them want the real Adam, the Adam that died years ago, the Adam that never saw the light of day, the Adam that was smothered in lies and manipulation and treachery, replaced by a leech, only desire to be wanted, but nobody will ever want you, Adam, because Adam no longer exists except in best impressions, personas, perceptions.
Ampersand
One of the things I hate about growing up, especially around this age of twenty-something, is you stop being your own person. You stop having the opportunity to go visit a friend at 2300, and stay up drinking, and watching shitty films, and bitching about life until 1000, before both crashing out curled up with each other, even though there's nothing between you, it's just got to that point of things. You become a part of someone else. People get boyfriends and girlfriends, and move in with them, and buy houses, and it all stops being possible. Someone always has to work the next day, or someone's partner is always there too, or coming home at 2300, or 0200 if you're lucky, but they're coming home. You can't let yourself properly go with your friends anymore, not the way you used to, because even if both a friend and their partner are the closest people to you, the mere fact there's two instead of one changes the entire dynamic and interactions of the time together. My friend Jme, who granted, I wouldn't see much anyway, has officially settled down. He owns a fucking country cottage with his high school sweetheart. He spends his weekends painting the fucking bedroom and putting up new fucking fences in the garden. I love him, but time with him now tends to follow the inevitable 'how are your parents, how's your brother doing at school/work, how's city life, how's country life' etc. Give it 2 or 3 years and it'll be 'how're the kids'.
And pretty soon, I'll be one of these people. I'll move in with my boyfriend, which is great and all, regular sex, a bigger DVD collection, free hugs, someone to cook when I've had a bad day... All. That. Jazz. And yet... even if we agree one night a week where one of us will be out, so we can both have time to ourselves, so we can have the flat to ourselves for a bit, so we can invite a friend over for the evening, it's just that. It's for the evening. And Chris isn't one for spending the entire night out as it is. And my pool of friends that I can do that with is practically non-existent these days. There's a million and one little adjustments to make. We both like to listen to music throughout our day, and whilst we get on well enough with each other's music (though maybe not him so much with my cheesy pop for 8 hours at a time), we very much like our own music, and suddenly it'll be a choice of not being in the same room, or sharing the music. I'm usually up late, he's not. Either I can go to bed with him, keep him up, make him tired and cranky, and then still lie awake for 3 more hours before I finally manage to fall asleep, or I can be in a different room and have to climb into bed separately to him ever night so I can play games or listen to some music whilst I write stupid blog posts, or I can be in the same room, with low light, and no sound.
Maybe it's time to invest in a pair of wireless headphones....
Music: Still listening to Einaudi so won't post more. However, whilst this post was not inspired by, it certainly relates to, the sentiment expressed in this song, hence the title of this post.
And pretty soon, I'll be one of these people. I'll move in with my boyfriend, which is great and all, regular sex, a bigger DVD collection, free hugs, someone to cook when I've had a bad day... All. That. Jazz. And yet... even if we agree one night a week where one of us will be out, so we can both have time to ourselves, so we can have the flat to ourselves for a bit, so we can invite a friend over for the evening, it's just that. It's for the evening. And Chris isn't one for spending the entire night out as it is. And my pool of friends that I can do that with is practically non-existent these days. There's a million and one little adjustments to make. We both like to listen to music throughout our day, and whilst we get on well enough with each other's music (though maybe not him so much with my cheesy pop for 8 hours at a time), we very much like our own music, and suddenly it'll be a choice of not being in the same room, or sharing the music. I'm usually up late, he's not. Either I can go to bed with him, keep him up, make him tired and cranky, and then still lie awake for 3 more hours before I finally manage to fall asleep, or I can be in a different room and have to climb into bed separately to him ever night so I can play games or listen to some music whilst I write stupid blog posts, or I can be in the same room, with low light, and no sound.
Maybe it's time to invest in a pair of wireless headphones....
Music: Still listening to Einaudi so won't post more. However, whilst this post was not inspired by, it certainly relates to, the sentiment expressed in this song, hence the title of this post.
Here with me
(Yes emo eddie is back in full swing, well not full swing, i'm depressed, rather than having a depressive episode, but still...)
You say you're there if I want, or need to talk. You're there for me. You're giving 110%. But it never feels like it...
I call. I send random messages if I see you online. I suggest we go out for dinner, or to the cinema, or anything vaguely resembling a date, or just a nice night out. You don't call. You can't call. I, and probably you, don't even know if your landline can call me. You always leave your phone somewhere and come back to it 8 hours later. I could never trust that part of me around you. I could never let you be my one phonecall, or my emergency contact, because I don't know that you'll be at the end of a phone. Not because you're busy. Because you're just not at the end of a phone like the other 95% of people in my life. And yet you know I'm the sort of person, who would gladly drop everything to travel halfway around the world on the next flight, not the next available flight, the next flight there was, I would argue my way onto it, for anyone who asked it of me. You always wait for me to call, even when things are bad, its my responsiblity, because it just is. You never start those conversations. Even if you, or I, or we, really really need one. It's easier to just let it go, and wait till I'm better again.
When I'm better, I haven't fixed things. I've just forced myself to be okay with them; that "pretending everything's okay" trick of mine? I do that 24/7 (on which note, see last post). I've just forced myself to be okay with it, even if I'm not. Because the first thing I ever learnt from pains of the heart, was that you don't always get the outcome you want, no matter how long you wait, no matter how much you want it, no matter how much you fucking deserve it, all you have, is you. You have to deal with it, you have to answer those questions, by yourself, because no-one else will help you. And I'm learning it all over again with you.
Sometimes I'm not in this thing. But then neither are you.
Mood: See last post, this one is connected, in case it wasn't bleedin' obvious.
Music: More Einaudi
You say you're there if I want, or need to talk. You're there for me. You're giving 110%.
I call. I send random messages if I see you online. I suggest we go out for dinner, or to the cinema, or anything vaguely resembling a date, or just a nice night out. You don't call. You can't call. I, and probably you, don't even know if your landline can call me. You always leave your phone somewhere and come back to it 8 hours later. I could never trust that part of me around you. I could never let you be my one phonecall, or my emergency contact, because I don't know that you'll be at the end of a phone. Not because you're busy. Because you're just not at the end of a phone like the other 95% of people in my life. And yet you know I'm the sort of person, who would gladly drop everything to travel halfway around the world on the next flight, not the next available flight, the next flight there was, I would argue my way onto it, for anyone who asked it of me. You always wait for me to call, even when things are bad, its my responsiblity, because it just is. You never start those conversations. Even if you, or I, or we, really really need one. It's easier to just let it go, and wait till I'm better again.
When I'm better, I haven't fixed things. I've just forced myself to be okay with them; that "pretending everything's okay" trick of mine? I do that 24/7 (on which note, see last post). I've just forced myself to be okay with it, even if I'm not. Because the first thing I ever learnt from pains of the heart, was that you don't always get the outcome you want, no matter how long you wait, no matter how much you want it, no matter how much you fucking deserve it, all you have, is you. You have to deal with it, you have to answer those questions, by yourself, because no-one else will help you. And I'm learning it all over again with you.
Sometimes I'm not in this thing. But then neither are you.
Mood: See last post, this one is connected, in case it wasn't bleedin' obvious.
Music: More Einaudi
Someday I'll be Saturday night.
I lie. A lot. To everyone. Everyday. True, I lie to some people more than others; we all know there are some things you just don't admit to your parents and when asked you smile politely and make something up, because it saves you all a lot of emotional trauma in the long run, and yes, some people I lie to more, and some people I lie to less, and it depends on the circumstance. But make no mistake, I am, a compulsive liar. I will lie and make something up for no real reason, there's no necessity, there's nothing to be ashamed of, or to protect, no job to try and get, no cute boy to impress, I will just lie. And I'll know I'm doing it. And I'll think to myself, why the hell am I saying this, I've no reason to. But I'll lie nonetheless, as I say: compulsive. I physically (or should it be mentally?) cannot stop myself.
And like any good habitual liar, it's such a part of me, that there are lies which have become entire truths about my life. I've fooled my own memory into being unable to tell the difference between the lie world, and whatever the reality is/was. Which is superbly useful should I ever be quizzed about them on a lie detector machine for some reason, as my memory will just have the same consistent suspicious paranoia about anything it tries to remember, but it does make it hard to work out, should the mood ever strike me for some bizzare reason, what I need to confess as false, and what's fair and valid. And even if I could remember what I need to own up to, I can't remember what there is to replace aforementioned owning up.
I'm not entirely sure why I have this consistent urge to lie, even in instances when the truth is actually far more interesting. Maybe it did grow from an attention seeking thing, from trying to impress people, from trying to seem worthwhile (I had issues as a child. I still have issues, I'm just old enough to fight off anyone who tries to drag me to the psych office without a heavy, heavy dose of drugs, and some restraints), but whatever the reason and deep rooted psychological damage within me, I lie everyday about all kinds of things. What I got up to, about the random stranger on the bus, that I ordered a hot chocolate instead of a coffee, wierd little inconsquential things. And then some bigger very consequential things from time to time.
My admission of this is nothing new, I've freely admitted to people I'm a compulsive liar before, I'm just very good at making both you and me believe that it's the truth from years of experience. I know how not to make my lies too fanciful. And you'll never quite know what I'm lying about and what I'm not. But then, as I've discussed, I'm not entirely too sure myself either.
Of course, now you're all going to wonder if you ever really knew me, if I could ever really be trusted, if I ever can again, if the person you think you're friends with is the person you really know or not, and so on and so forth. I can't silence these doubts for you I'm afraid. If it's a comfort, than as I said at the beginning, I do it to everyone to varying degrees, so its not like I'm holding any form of grudge against you personally. In fact this blog probably contains the least lies, or at least conscious lies, about me, as that's sort of the point, and I think this still shows mostly the same person. Possibly a lot more emo than you're used to, but that's cause one of my lie traits, is the ability to put on a perfect smile so that you'd never know I'm on the point of crying.
Mood: Rather down, though that didn't prompt this
Music: http://open.spotify.com/user/jorgamond/playlist/3HFPqCl81QUuBwJGRfFez3
And like any good habitual liar, it's such a part of me, that there are lies which have become entire truths about my life. I've fooled my own memory into being unable to tell the difference between the lie world, and whatever the reality is/was. Which is superbly useful should I ever be quizzed about them on a lie detector machine for some reason, as my memory will just have the same consistent suspicious paranoia about anything it tries to remember, but it does make it hard to work out, should the mood ever strike me for some bizzare reason, what I need to confess as false, and what's fair and valid. And even if I could remember what I need to own up to, I can't remember what there is to replace aforementioned owning up.
I'm not entirely sure why I have this consistent urge to lie, even in instances when the truth is actually far more interesting. Maybe it did grow from an attention seeking thing, from trying to impress people, from trying to seem worthwhile (I had issues as a child. I still have issues, I'm just old enough to fight off anyone who tries to drag me to the psych office without a heavy, heavy dose of drugs, and some restraints), but whatever the reason and deep rooted psychological damage within me, I lie everyday about all kinds of things. What I got up to, about the random stranger on the bus, that I ordered a hot chocolate instead of a coffee, wierd little inconsquential things. And then some bigger very consequential things from time to time.
My admission of this is nothing new, I've freely admitted to people I'm a compulsive liar before, I'm just very good at making both you and me believe that it's the truth from years of experience. I know how not to make my lies too fanciful. And you'll never quite know what I'm lying about and what I'm not. But then, as I've discussed, I'm not entirely too sure myself either.
Of course, now you're all going to wonder if you ever really knew me, if I could ever really be trusted, if I ever can again, if the person you think you're friends with is the person you really know or not, and so on and so forth. I can't silence these doubts for you I'm afraid. If it's a comfort, than as I said at the beginning, I do it to everyone to varying degrees, so its not like I'm holding any form of grudge against you personally. In fact this blog probably contains the least lies, or at least conscious lies, about me, as that's sort of the point, and I think this still shows mostly the same person. Possibly a lot more emo than you're used to, but that's cause one of my lie traits, is the ability to put on a perfect smile so that you'd never know I'm on the point of crying.
Mood: Rather down, though that didn't prompt this
Music: http://open.spotify.com/user/jorgamond/playlist/3HFPqCl81QUuBwJGRfFez3
Thursday, 13 May 2010
Smiles for Miles
I love guys' smiles. Yes, this from a guy who doesn't smile much. In actual fact, I'm not entirely physically sure how to smile. People tell me to smile, and I try, and they go "no like this", so I try and imitate them and they go "come on, smile properly" and I have no idea what I'm doing wrong. Just like I have no idea what's wrong with the way I say theatre. But back to the point...
I love guys' smiles. It's the cutest possible thing about a guy. I can't remember half the guys I slept with, even discounting 'work', but I can remember so many smiles. And I'm not good with visual memory, and I definitely can't describe someone to you (much to my frustration when I like some new guy and everyone asks me what they look like), but I can conjure up an image in my head of just about every single friend I've ever had if I imagine them laughing or smiling. Chris has a cute smile, especially when he's managed to surprise me, or excite me or thought I looked particularly cute and its a smile that says he's completely in love with me. Jack has a smile that's full of wonder and amazement at the world, the kind of smile a child has that gets lost somewhere along the line. Terence has a fucking goofy smile, it makes me laugh, and then want to kiss him. My ex had the best smile in the world, and whilst I don't particularly miss him, after all I broke it up and am with Chris, I do, occasionally, miss his smile. Jme has a combined laugh and smile where anything he's drinking comes out of his nose. Tania smiles with a duck of her head that makes you want to hug her. Pilar smiles the kind of smile only a latina mama can pull off, 150%, complete and overflowing with spirit. Adam's smile (as I know he reads this) is endearing and trusting, and, whether you like it or not Adam, has a hint of the subby pup within you, and that's not a bad thing. Seany's smile is a crazy one, the definitive big kid, the man who refuses to grow up, rather than the man who genuinely still is a child. Joel's smile is pitying, mocking, and supportive and understanding all at the same time. I love people's smiles, and specifically, I love guys' smiles. Its the most amazing non-sexual thing about them. Though the kind of smile guys give when you're fooling around on a sofa, half sexual, but not actually sex, is definitely the best kind. Forget eyes, or arses, or good dress sense, or philanderer hair, its a smile that really makes a guy for me.
That's not to say of course, that I don't have certain things that I do like from a physical or sexual perspective. I have a big thing for arms. The maoz on Old Compton Street is amazing, because it seemingly always has a guy with nice muscled arms sitting in the front window whenever I walk past. A guy with powerful arms feels great holding you. Or shoving you up against a wall. Whilst arms don't have quite as dramatic an effect as guys with red or blue hair on me - I have some wierd uncontrollable fetish for that where guys I didn't even like before suddenly become attractive to me with dark blue or red dyed hair - they are the sort of thing I do a double take for when I pass guys in the street. I'll always notice a guy's arms before I notice his ass, or his crotch, or chest or whatever. From a mental level, I think both the arms and the hair things say something about the guy, about his confidence and physicality. A guy with good arms is likely to have the torso to go along with it, they're likely to take care of their bodies, and if they do that, they're likely to have some stamina too... ;) Boys with blue or red hair are almost certainly going to have a personality I'm going to be interested in. They're going to have crazy theories and look at the world differently. They have the confidence to not care what people think about their appearance even when it doesn't fit in, and even if that confidence is compensating for something, usually a broken inside that I'm going to like, it's still appealing. They're likely to be a lot more open to what the world can offer, in all sorts of ways. Smiles, arms and crazy coloured hair; it's a sure winner with me.
That's not to say you have to have gym bunny style arms. Whilst I definitely appreciate the improvements when Chris has time to work out, something as simple as him putting on a sleeveless top in front of me tends to make me grab him eagerly. I think you can imagine for yourself where things tend to go to from there...
EDIT: On the basis of the above, and some thinking about various people, smiles reveal a lot about the person. Eyes don't say that much to me to be honest. But a smile, at least the way I read them, tells me some of the most fundamental character traits about you, both good and bad, whether you want me to know them or not. I recognise that there's a slight problem in that I'm only basing this on the smiles people give when around me, and so someone with a good grasp of psychotheory might be able to manipulate this, but oh well.
Mood: Up and down: shit exam yesterday, final one Monday.
Music: http://open.spotify.com/user/jorgamond/playlist/1d4sfIviMMJUdDQMMpSjNN
I love guys' smiles. It's the cutest possible thing about a guy. I can't remember half the guys I slept with, even discounting 'work', but I can remember so many smiles. And I'm not good with visual memory, and I definitely can't describe someone to you (much to my frustration when I like some new guy and everyone asks me what they look like), but I can conjure up an image in my head of just about every single friend I've ever had if I imagine them laughing or smiling. Chris has a cute smile, especially when he's managed to surprise me, or excite me or thought I looked particularly cute and its a smile that says he's completely in love with me. Jack has a smile that's full of wonder and amazement at the world, the kind of smile a child has that gets lost somewhere along the line. Terence has a fucking goofy smile, it makes me laugh, and then want to kiss him. My ex had the best smile in the world, and whilst I don't particularly miss him, after all I broke it up and am with Chris, I do, occasionally, miss his smile. Jme has a combined laugh and smile where anything he's drinking comes out of his nose. Tania smiles with a duck of her head that makes you want to hug her. Pilar smiles the kind of smile only a latina mama can pull off, 150%, complete and overflowing with spirit. Adam's smile (as I know he reads this) is endearing and trusting, and, whether you like it or not Adam, has a hint of the subby pup within you, and that's not a bad thing. Seany's smile is a crazy one, the definitive big kid, the man who refuses to grow up, rather than the man who genuinely still is a child. Joel's smile is pitying, mocking, and supportive and understanding all at the same time. I love people's smiles, and specifically, I love guys' smiles. Its the most amazing non-sexual thing about them. Though the kind of smile guys give when you're fooling around on a sofa, half sexual, but not actually sex, is definitely the best kind. Forget eyes, or arses, or good dress sense, or philanderer hair, its a smile that really makes a guy for me.
That's not to say of course, that I don't have certain things that I do like from a physical or sexual perspective. I have a big thing for arms. The maoz on Old Compton Street is amazing, because it seemingly always has a guy with nice muscled arms sitting in the front window whenever I walk past. A guy with powerful arms feels great holding you. Or shoving you up against a wall. Whilst arms don't have quite as dramatic an effect as guys with red or blue hair on me - I have some wierd uncontrollable fetish for that where guys I didn't even like before suddenly become attractive to me with dark blue or red dyed hair - they are the sort of thing I do a double take for when I pass guys in the street. I'll always notice a guy's arms before I notice his ass, or his crotch, or chest or whatever. From a mental level, I think both the arms and the hair things say something about the guy, about his confidence and physicality. A guy with good arms is likely to have the torso to go along with it, they're likely to take care of their bodies, and if they do that, they're likely to have some stamina too... ;) Boys with blue or red hair are almost certainly going to have a personality I'm going to be interested in. They're going to have crazy theories and look at the world differently. They have the confidence to not care what people think about their appearance even when it doesn't fit in, and even if that confidence is compensating for something, usually a broken inside that I'm going to like, it's still appealing. They're likely to be a lot more open to what the world can offer, in all sorts of ways. Smiles, arms and crazy coloured hair; it's a sure winner with me.
That's not to say you have to have gym bunny style arms. Whilst I definitely appreciate the improvements when Chris has time to work out, something as simple as him putting on a sleeveless top in front of me tends to make me grab him eagerly. I think you can imagine for yourself where things tend to go to from there...
EDIT: On the basis of the above, and some thinking about various people, smiles reveal a lot about the person. Eyes don't say that much to me to be honest. But a smile, at least the way I read them, tells me some of the most fundamental character traits about you, both good and bad, whether you want me to know them or not. I recognise that there's a slight problem in that I'm only basing this on the smiles people give when around me, and so someone with a good grasp of psychotheory might be able to manipulate this, but oh well.
Mood: Up and down: shit exam yesterday, final one Monday.
Music: http://open.spotify.com/user/jorgamond/playlist/1d4sfIviMMJUdDQMMpSjNN
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