Erik (eriktrips) wrote,
Erik
eriktrips

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seventeen. eighteen. nineteen. twenty.

what follows will go on the end of this when I feel like dinking around with the html. the very end is a repeat but really it's all a repeat so I feel no need to apologize beyond the standard apology for repeating.



i mean that said who would even want to talk of boys and girls. someone somewhere is always ascribing to the difference between boys and girls that of the ur-difference that founds the whole frigging dialectic but I am here to tell you that that is not the case.

oh it's already been shown. there is no need to show it again. (fair is fair as far as it goes.)

see the problem is that the greatest of differences has been attributed to exist between one and two and this leaves out about a million or more. but not only that but that the difference between one and two ignores the difference between without either the one or the two.

don't even get me started about the one and the many. we are talking of girls and boys here not god and the manifold. although there is the slight possibility they are the same thing.

in any case I can't say that I knew what I was from the very beginning except in a way I did or at least I had the genre pegged by age seven. that I think was the year I went as a hippie for halloween. as though at age seven I had some sort of presentiment of incongruity.

well at age seven it was no longer a presentiment.

the earliest pang I remember was seeing the crest on my brother's sports jacket. I wanted a sports jacket with a crest. I told mom I was envious of boys' clothing and she said but girls' clothing is so much more interesting. she did not understand the allure of a sports jacket with a crest.

when you're a boy you can wear a uniform. this excited me.

there is no good reason to start there though. history only adds up in the telling but the telling itself lingers without pedigree. apparently I was also enthralled by a stroller or what more accurately was a baby buggy. this was one christmas morning or one birthday I forget. one can't be exactly what one wants to be.

but really I did come into my own in the toy world when I discovered not only GI Joe but that mom would buy him for me. it may be that she regrets this but it wouldn't have made a difference if she had not bought him for me I still would have wanted a sports jacket with a crest. from GI Joe I graduated to wanting chemistry sets but at twenty dollars or whatever they were too expensive. this was back when money meant something in small quantities. probably you could have found a decent lego set for $1.99. I ended up with a geology lab that must have been less expensive and it was kind of fun but when you mixed together the various chemicals they provided for testing minerals they never did anything interesting like foam or explode.

not that that has anything to do with anything but if I for one feel like pointing it out and do someone else might say yeah that was it thanks for putting it into words. see it is the gap between it which is a word and the words which purport to explicate it where I get lost. you will see what I mean as we go along. because without an it there is nothing to explicate but the fundamental expletive is it. exactly that. say a thing often enough and it becomes so. although really the first time for it is the first time for it and that is all it takes even though it gets everything started and no one can keep still ever after. the serpent doesn't eat its own tail. it throws it up.

I will say it straight out and that is I do not know how to get from here to there or that my getting from here to there is a ruse and that is all it is but is getting from here to there ever other than a ruse is the question. like I said it lingers but it does not only linger. the question is why put it this way.

in fact there is always a question of how to put it and how to put it works itself out in the most concrete ways that you really only notice if you try to get underneath it all or if you are thrust underneath it all by circumstance and perhaps breeding.

there is no getting underneath it all. there is however a point at which anything more than it makes no sense whatsoever and the simplest distinctions stand naked and bereft. it is not so dire as all that but if you are the naked and bereft one it can be embarrassing.

to wit.

the men's room is deteriorating. not everywhere or at least as far as I know only in this particular spot although probably they are deteriorating elsewhere too but here there was a seat and then there was no seat but there was still a stall door but now there is no stall door either and all of this would not be so bad except that the door to the outside opens directly onto a view of the stall and there is no lock on the door to the outside so one crouches trying to hover above the seatless fixture while concentrating on what to do if the door opens for instance does my shirt cover me or do my pants not pulled all the way down cover me or should I move my arms across to cover me because this is always the question how best to cover in order not to evoke great surprise or consternation or urge to kill. and that vulnerable moment between sitting (crouching) and standing where one's only recourse is to turn quickly around and let their eyes reassure them in the absence of continuous corraborating evidence that they did not see what they did not see. that or meeting their eyes with a yes you saw it but that's life you sometimes see odd things and for pete's sake why not let it be.
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