“Hell is gone and heaven’s here
There’s nothing left for you to fear
Shake your ass come over here
Now scream
Of everything I used to be
You’re my rock of empathy
My dear…”
Now THAT is how you start a song. It starts with what sounds like a tambourine (do people still play that? Its probably those metal plate like thingis on the drums, no?), then the piano, then electric guitar, then he starts to sing…by the time he gets to the chorus 40 seconds in I’m already bouncing off the walls. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Back when I was not too successfully ‘dating’ online, I quickly learnt that while (unfortunately not too many?) men were enamoured with the online me (the original Alex, very long story), once the real me entered the picture, well, lets just say there was less ‘en’ and more ‘armoured’. Now all along I assumed that it was because they wanted a fantasy and not a ‘real woman’, the idea of rather than the actual thing, and in my characteristic foolishness, I wrote them off as time-wasting idiots uninterested in anything ‘meaningful’. I know, not my most brilliant theory, but in my defence, they were just looking to get laid, no? In time, however, I slowly realised that the reason the ‘real me’ was less appealing was simply that ‘Alex’ was much more interesting and laid back, and less OCD, and definitely freakier, which is a very good thing online, no? I’m just saying… I may have said this before, the beauty of online ‘dating’ is that it gives you a safe and inexpensive way of exploring yourself, and my exploration revealed a serious disconnect between who I think I am and who I actually am. It took me months of talking to (perhaps too many) random strangers to finally begin to shake off years of peculiar hang ups and random issues, from insecurities brought on by break-ups to attitude problems brought on by an over-inflated sense of importance (I mock myself).
The thing about hiding behind an alter ego is that it’s easier to be yourself, or the version of yourself you like, its reinvention made easy. Once I finally figured that out, I decided I preferred the woman I was online, she was more fun, and funny, and confident, and sexy as hell (admittedly only in her deluded head). And she knew how to get a man, make that men, granted said men were slightly fucked up, but they were still men, so there! I found that there’s a strange comfort in talking to a faceless/voiceless stranger, and that sometimes the anonymity is the best part of the relationship. Therefore, when I was setting up this blog it was a no-brainer, she had to make a comeback, who better to write nonsense than a chatty, almost middle-aged woman with commitment issues and a mild fetish for French porn? Hmmm… I hadn’t told you about the French porn thing, had I? Ah well… The beauty of anonymity is that I can pretty much say whatever I want without having to worry about it coming back to bite me in the ass (I hope), secure in the knowledge that the few people who know me and read this nonsense are so unhinged they would never think to malign my (otherwise?) good name. The reason I blog as Alex is simply because it allows me to say shit the other/real me couldn’t, or shouldn’t, put online and still expect to have a job the following morning, but of course its not that simple, nothing ever is.
Every so often someone will comment on how ‘honest’ I am, or tell me I have ‘cojones’ for saying what (apparently) isn’t usually said, and most times I shrug off said comments as odd because I’m just talking, I figure, that’s the whole point to my blogging, no? To talk, really talk, about anything and everything, it’s like asexual online dating (I said asexual, you bloody pervert, not bisexual, I’m still not a lesbian, and don’t bother asking again, we still won’t be having a threesome). I don’t bother to hold back because it defeats the purpose of being undercover, its like putting on a kinky French Maid’s outfit, complete with stockings and garter belt, and then playing a strict Police Woman, makes no sense, no? Did that analogy make much sense to you? Issues! Point is, I write this way because it’s my catharsis, writing as my (only slightly) psycho alter ego gives the rest of me a chance to get lost in the madness, it’s not that I’m pretending to be someone else here, it’s just that in real life I am nowhere near as…open, I guess? I’m reserved, and extremely private, and kind of very serious (in a scary way). But not here, here I’m the entertainment.
Which brings me to the day’s track, Mr Robbie Williams
And without any further ado, how about we get on with the madness, scratch that, delusion? I know I said I’d be back on Wednesday, and I’ve just scheduled that post, but I needed to call someone (almost) bad names first and it couldn’t wait for next weekend. I told you to enjoy the silence while you had the chance and you thought I was joking...
P.T.O.
P.T.O.
