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.)

The Demon Who Lives with The Consequences
Saturday, Dec. 13, 2003

You�re probably here to see the demons, in which case you�re going to have to wade through a bit of shit first. Shit is a major demon export product�but at least they�re self-feeding. If you didn�t bring your wading boots, you might want to go ahead and click up there on �older lies� and then begin with �The Tell-All Demon.�

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The Demon Who Always Does the Right Thing has a new girlfriend so she and I haven�t spent very much time together lately. The last time I saw her though, I gave her the url to this diary because it was she who suggested that I write out the story, and she read it, but she and I haven�t had the time to sit and really talk about it much. Last night, we had dinner together and then went to Betty�s to soak and talk. As we sat in the hot tub, surrounded by lots of very beautiful and very naked women, she talked about the new girlfriend (who I think is too, too fabulous) and about new love and about all the things-- both beautiful and problematic--that go along with any new relationship.

When it was my turn, we talked, of course, about the latest demons.

I told her about my feelings for Magdalene and we discussed how they were often problematic. (I know you�re reading this diary, Magdalene, and so I won�t write anything of them here. I�m not editing them out�this is still my diary�they�re just in a place inaccessible to readers. But I do want you to know that I�ve done a lot of thinking about our friendship and how to work it so that it works for both of us.)

The Demon Who Always Does the Right Thing had a lot of good advice for me, including going the honesty route, which is not something I have a lot of practice at when it comes to big things. I mean, I spent the last, oh, eighteen or so years of my life living a lie, so I�m pretty good at making things look honest on the surface even when everything is rotted out underneath. So I still have a problem with the kind of benevolently confrontational move that the Demon Who Always Does the Right Thing was advocating. (I know, I know. Everybody does.) This could be the next big lesson. (Why couldn�t I just quit smoking? Or quit with the intravenous drug use? Why does it have to be honesty, for fuck�s sake?)

Sadly, it seems that good advice is deadly Sublingua poison.

The Demon Who Always Does the Right Thing and I finished our soak and showered together while still talking. In the changing room, I found myself telling her about the time I had dragged Matthew to Betty�s for a massage. (The Demon Who Always Does the Right Thing is a massage therapist, so she believes strongly and rightly in the value of touch.) Matthew hadn�t wanted to come, so I pestered him all day long. I had a gift certificate for the bulk of the cost that my brother had given me. The gift certificate was about to expire and I wanted a massage and I wanted some company and Dave and I weren�t getting along too well and I knew damn well that Matthew hadn�t had any kind of touch in a very long time and must be starved for it, whether or not he recognized it. So I pestered and pestered and finally Matthew relented when I told him that I wouldn�t let him pay for my coffee unless he came for a massage.

On the afternoon of the massage, he was really, really nervous. I had been nervous too before my first massage, so I tried to be understanding, which is not something I�m very good at. (Add it to the list right below honesty, I guess). He was apprehensive about being in bad shape physically, and I pointed out that massage therapists see all kinds of people and consequently don�t really care about what shape the person is in. But I don�t think my arguments were very convincing.

He and I went down to Betty�s that afternoon and there was this surreal moment when we were both sitting on the bench outside the massage rooms in our white bathrobes. Matthew was really tense (more so than usual), like a bowstring stretched beyond its capacity. I tried to distract him from the fact that in a few minutes a woman he had never met was going to ask him to get naked so that she could touch him all over by being chatty and showing him pictures of paintings by Louise Bourgeois in a big, colorful magazine. Finally, his massage therapist called him in. I told her quickly that he had never had a massage before, saying something like, �so go easy on him.�

I went in and had my massage, came out, changed, and Matthew still wasn�t finished. I sat on the bench and waited. After a bit longer, he came out. Or rather I should say that someone who looked like Matthew came out, because he was a different person. As we walked out to the car, I asked him if he had enjoyed it, though it was clear from his posture and the look on his face that he had. He told me about having his hands massaged (�I guess I hold a lot of tension in my hands,� he said), flexing them. He was actually talkative and relaxed. He seemed happy and more positive, this unwound Matthew.

And, telling The Demon Who Always Does the Right Thing about that Matthew, I began to get the worst feeling, as if I had done something wrong. I began to have this kind of feeling like I just should have left it alone, should have walked away then, should be walking away now.

My Demon friend talked to me about touch and told me how most people either never get touched or only get touched in a sexual manner. How it�s profound when it happens in such a way so that it doesn�t fall into either of those categories. How we�re all starved for it. She assured me, I suppose, that it was okay what I did. That sometimes you just do the best you can and then live with the consequences.

retreat or surrender

More lies:
Waking Sleeping Demons II - Sunday, Oct. 30, 2011
Waking Sleeping Demons - Saturday, Oct. 29, 2011
time - Friday, May. 20, 2011
- - Wednesday, Oct. 06, 2010
The Return - Tuesday, Oct. 05, 2010

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