Blurred time

While I was walking back from work today, I had a strange feeling.

Most women take these sorts of feelings for granted, it’s nearly everyday life for them.

I’m not nearly as much of a daydreamer as I used to be, I get thrilled and in a solemn unity with the universe when I daydream.

I’m not sure what triggered it, but I imagined myself with a guy in the near future, my prince charming. I’m almost embarrassed to admit I did. I was thinking about how to get some dinner cooked and data analyzed efficiently when I would get home, but I was powerless to the images that appeared in my mind.

It’s an odd optimistic feeling, the ones I am especially skeptical about, but I let go and totally enjoyed it.

He was there, everything I admire in guys, put together like a puzzle, yet still leaving much unknown. He touched me with curiosity and affection, and I could see us as a couple, without me even changing parts of myself, without having to become girlier or prettier and I didn’t even have to moderate my standards. It seemed so real and gave me a twang of hope and something to smile about. I was in the presence, but my future self looked back at me. Nothing had changed, it might as well even have been today. I got a sense of how we as individuals exist in all planes of time.

I know there is a billion psychological reasons for this, but I will hold on to my waking dreams. I know it’s some skewed message my brain wants me to see, but that doesn’t keep me from cherishing it as a personal myth.

A lot of people say that you are ready for something once you are able to visualize it. I think I might have figured it out. I’m not afraid of the standards out there any more. Not even a little bit. I’m ready to meet him, despite my perceived flaws, because in that world, I am as normal as could be. He too, despite his obvious quirks, melancholic disposition, still can exist freely in the myth.

One day I will awaken and chuckle at this, but at least I am preserving some rare, fleeting instances of feminine feeling. I have never felt so much like a woman.

Surrealistic fantasies

This is inspired by Never Had a Boyfriend’s post entitled “Beds“.

I am at the point in my life where libido is pretty great, and in the past I have satisfied myself by daydreaming, masturbating and occasionally having random make-out sessions, but it wasn’t like I was ever left satisfied. I wanted more than just physical closeness.

It’s awkward when you have fantasized about someone and then you have to talk to them. Really, really awkward. I don’t show it, but my brain screams “Holy shit, theoretically this is supposed to be mad awkward right now”. That happened a lot with the Rambler. I am pretty sure I kept my passion under wraps, but it was hard not to just stare at him when we would have our long non-academic talks. Still, I was never uncomfortable around him. I felt like he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable either if he noticed that I liked him much. I just loved being in his presence. Even as time passes by, I find that I can’t get over him. I am a retard I know.

Sometimes, when I am half asleep I find myself thrust into this world of very surrealistic fantasies, like ones that have nothing to do with what’s going on in my real life. I of course don’t remember much about them when I am completely awake but they are extremely pleasurable while they last.

Only today I had a fantasy about me working during my internships in this small city that actually exists, and acquiring this guy who was studying to become a teacher. We apparently got it on and it was pretty darn good.

When I am in my logical thinking mood though, I look back at these and I am like what the fuck, what does these have to do with anything. The small city in that fantasy is where a lot of people in my field do their internships but I have no intention of going there for it. And high school teacher wannabes aren’t usually my thing either. Fantasies like these come out of nowhere.

I guess I am on that time of the month when women are frisky because they are ovulating. If I was drunk enough and around the rambler, I can imagine myself just jumping him like that. This too is a surrealistic fantasy because firstly, that’s not the most ideal of cases, and secondly why would the rambler randomly agree to be jumped by me? Yeah, that’s not happening.

I guess to an extent I fantasize about things that are too good to happen to me. Too good. But it’s nothing out of the ordinary really. It happens to other people all the time. I wish I could be like them. It does seem so easy when I see others. Sigh.

On the other hand, the sexual content of the fantasies are not science fiction. They would happen to me, one day hopefully. Most of us don’t die virgins, so hopefully that statistic applies to me as well.

As I am writing this, I am seeing how stupid I am sounding. This isn’t the usual me for sure. I usually have my head screwed on straight. I am just gonna blame the hormones once again.

Then again, what’s wrong with a smart spiffy 18 year old chick being horny?

I’ll end it here before things get weird. . I love being weird.