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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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The Demon of Confession, Shame and Judgment
�What can be more passionate than resentment of love? Love awakens in some a feeling of inadequacy and debt.� I knew that in Matthew�s world that there has to be confession, shame and judgment. I wanted to see how this was going to play out. I went back into the apartment. I was still very drunk, still not processing conversation too well. I remember his asking, �Why did you do it?� I answered, �Because I�m attracted to you and wanted to give you pleasure.� He asked, �Why did she do it?� I said, �Maybe for the same reason. Maybe because she wanted you to edit her paper.� Saying it was a mistake, because that reminded him that she had worked as a prostitute. He said of this: �Don�t you find that disgusting and wrong?� I said, �No. But it�s not my job to judge her.� There was a long bout of conversation during which I told him I loved him. I don�t know how he took this really. Probably to mean that I loved him as I love the professor who teaches us Milton and Shakespeare and of whom I always joke that I want to convince to sit on my lap before the end of the semester. Either way, Matthew�s overwhelming feeling seemed to be that I was making fun of him. When I couldn�t find my extra gate key, I told him to relax, �Just sit down. Read some Proust.� (Proust is his favorite author and I had Swann�s Way sitting on the floor near the bed.) He said, �Stop making fun of me.� I said I wasn�t making fun of him. He said, �What the hell does that mean, �Read some Proust�?� I told him after a bit that I thought he was brilliant. �Matthew, I think you�re brilliant.� He said, �Don�t say that again.� I don�t remember much else. I remember his saying again that he did it because he gets lonely. I remember his saying, �Sin feels good.� I remember telling him that if it hadn�t been him, it would have been Lynch, only Lynch had a girlfriend. I remember asking him about Sam. I remember telling him about Mary, the waitress, who revealed all. I remember his saying that thing about being civil, and my telling him that that was a fucking lie. He said, �If you�re going to get angry, I�m going home.� Finally, he did go home. I asked him before he left if he had any feelings at all for me. His reply? �No.� I got my extra gate key and let him out of the gate, saying, �You know the devil is a woman.� I came back into the apartment and went into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror, into my own eyes and smiled, said, �Now you�re a demon. You�re a demon. Now you�re his demon.� I ran a bath and got in. The conversation with Matthew had killed any sexual feelings that I had had earlier (despite my emotional detachment from either of them, Magdalene or Matthew.) I lay in the bath for a long while trying to think over the evening. Then I tried to take out my contact lenses. They wouldn�t come out. I tried putting in drops. I tried prying at the edge with a fingernail until my eyes were blood red. Finally I got scared so I got out of the bath and called Max. I said, �Can I come home now?� He said, �You are home.� I told him everything that had happened. He provided some insight and interpretation of Matthew�s actions, was cynical about Matthew�s having bought more liquor for two women who were already drunk and making out in his van. He wondered if this was an act of manipulation, but was willing to admit that if it was, that Matthew probably wasn�t especially conscious of doing it. We talked for a while and I told him that I couldn�t take out my contact lenses. I said, �I�m the Demon Who Can�t Stop Seeing.� The Demon Who Can't Stop Seeing (after the ritual bath):
�Sublingua�s House of Demons. If you�d like to be a demon, leave me a message��
More lies:
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