CrystalGeezer
My secret's my enzyme.
Since you brought it up on the other thread, about the whole soulmate improbability thing.
I am aware there is the possibility that I am displacing my years of neglect and dysfunction with a manipulative man 30 years my senior into the personality of a famous singer, I know this and it has been suggested and I am not closed to the possibility.
But stretching beyond the symbols I show as proof and the weird way I see signs and all that, there's this other thing that makes me think he's...different.
Throughout the years when I've been mired in a treachery and hell, I'd go to work and be standing next to a boy shelving books. I'd think of the hell I had to return to when my shift was over in 30 minutes, and I'd slip into a meditation, get lost in thought kinda. And I's stand next to this boy, whoever, there were MANY, and I'd watch him shelve books while I too was shelving. And I'd focus on a part of him, or my brain would, it's hard to say. And I'd watch his wrist. The part between the end of his hand to where his watch was. And those 3 square inches of wrist would give me solace, they;d make me feel safe. THe guy himself could be a douchebag, but his wrist made me feel safe. In other people it would be different parts, like the back of his neck or the way he walked up stairs or the way his shirt bloused over his trousers. Tiny details or a combination of people that made me feel like I could get through one more day going back to the house of hell I lived in. So Morrissey kind of represents all of those moments of finding solace in a part as a whole man.
This photogragh taken in Vicar Street:
Do you see the way his foot awkwardly rests on the mic stand? I could stare at that for hours. That communicates to me that Morrissey is the person who would let me sleep when I was tired, who wouldn't manipulate me into doing something for him I didn;t want, who shares similar inconsequential-to-most observances and fantasies, someone I wouldn't have to "read". Watching cruddy youtube clips, seeing snapshots, going to a concert for 80 minutes is like 80 minutes of solace, he;s like the source of all the pieces who ever gave me comfort. Alot to put on a man, I know, and SUPER crazy sounding, I know, but I can;t just move on as you suggest. I have to do something like Lars and the Real Girl and have my sex doll die of a strange disease or come to life, I can't just walk away and say. "Huh, well that didn't work out. NEXT!" But thanks for your concern which seemed genuine.
I am aware there is the possibility that I am displacing my years of neglect and dysfunction with a manipulative man 30 years my senior into the personality of a famous singer, I know this and it has been suggested and I am not closed to the possibility.
But stretching beyond the symbols I show as proof and the weird way I see signs and all that, there's this other thing that makes me think he's...different.
Throughout the years when I've been mired in a treachery and hell, I'd go to work and be standing next to a boy shelving books. I'd think of the hell I had to return to when my shift was over in 30 minutes, and I'd slip into a meditation, get lost in thought kinda. And I's stand next to this boy, whoever, there were MANY, and I'd watch him shelve books while I too was shelving. And I'd focus on a part of him, or my brain would, it's hard to say. And I'd watch his wrist. The part between the end of his hand to where his watch was. And those 3 square inches of wrist would give me solace, they;d make me feel safe. THe guy himself could be a douchebag, but his wrist made me feel safe. In other people it would be different parts, like the back of his neck or the way he walked up stairs or the way his shirt bloused over his trousers. Tiny details or a combination of people that made me feel like I could get through one more day going back to the house of hell I lived in. So Morrissey kind of represents all of those moments of finding solace in a part as a whole man.
This photogragh taken in Vicar Street:
Do you see the way his foot awkwardly rests on the mic stand? I could stare at that for hours. That communicates to me that Morrissey is the person who would let me sleep when I was tired, who wouldn't manipulate me into doing something for him I didn;t want, who shares similar inconsequential-to-most observances and fantasies, someone I wouldn't have to "read". Watching cruddy youtube clips, seeing snapshots, going to a concert for 80 minutes is like 80 minutes of solace, he;s like the source of all the pieces who ever gave me comfort. Alot to put on a man, I know, and SUPER crazy sounding, I know, but I can;t just move on as you suggest. I have to do something like Lars and the Real Girl and have my sex doll die of a strange disease or come to life, I can't just walk away and say. "Huh, well that didn't work out. NEXT!" But thanks for your concern which seemed genuine.
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Would you think it crazy if a random teenager waved at you maniacally? I live near you, and I think I would recognize you if I saw you, and I would have to wave hello. 
(Hope this isn't creepy.)
