A Floating Torso Outside Your Back Door

3/18/2023 -

This is one of those instances where my dreams are direct responses to my inner contemplation. Before going to bed I found myself wondering how exactly my wife and I (who are quite different to say the least) ended up not only being together but being together for nearly two decades. This isn't because anything has been bad between us at all, it's just one of those things you tend to contemplate in the course of being in a relationship with a very neuro-divergent person from time to time. It certainly is a different lifestyle. This has been fully explained to me on a spiritual level I might point out so I do get it for the most part.

Anyway, this lead to an entire night long exploration through my alternate romantic options in the city of Seattle. The best way I can describe this is that there's like a cartoonish watercolor painting of this enormous picture window that has a view of the city. Then on the periphery of this watercolor painting thing are these swirling portals that represent potential alternate women I could have dated if I'd chosen to break up with my wife years back.

Truth: All of them are very boring. Long gray tunnels of mostly tedium. I'm only getting this feeling of the general malaise associated with the entanglements rather than the specifics but in one situation I do pull into this very vivid dream. In this scenario I've rekindled a romance with a woman I briefly slept with in college that I legit hadn't thought about in years. Even in the dream state her appearance is jarring as hell to me. Again, it's just not a chapter of my life I'd given any sort of contemplation to in a very long time and it maybe lasted roughly 4 months. She's buck naked, her body is completely hairless, and I have no idea why I'm cheating on my wife with this woman.

Now I'm back in the watercolor psychogeographical entanglement map. I pull into a few other of these swirling energy portals. I cannot stress enough how boring this all is. At the end of the night the collective experience feels about as fun as waiting in line for hours for something that isn't even very rewarding in the first place. As the night goes on though, the focus now shifts to this one portal icon that's hovering right outside the back door to my townhouse. It keeps slowly zeroing in, slowly drawing closer in droll elongated increments. Finally I'm seeing the visual icon associated with this particular narrative wormhole. It's a woman's body with no legs, head, or arms. As it focuses in closer, during the last few frames of this repeating pattern that I catch, I realize it's now wearing sexy black lingerie.

Ouch. When I think about it, I remember the obscure past flame they referenced was someone I just sort of used for sex because it was convenient as I was moving out of town in a few months and didn't want to get attached to anything. I was at least honest with her about this but still. Jesus. Gut punch ending to that inquiry. As long as your primary motivator in seeking out sexual partners is looks and sex, your options aren't great and your wife was by far the best choice you could have made. That's the materialism that was embedded into me by culture. The toxic masculinity we all suffer from on some level, particularly if you're a bit older. To my defense, my biceps have always had more to do with most women being into me than anything else. Shit works both ways but the harshness of the conclusion is artistically impressive honestly. When you're a superficial idiot, what the fuck do you expect? Welcome to the talking monkey shit show.

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