19 August 2012


I like J, I'm not gonna lie about it. I mean, I'm lying to her about it almost every day: whatever it takes to keep her mono head at ease. But I'm attracted to her, all the more now that we've become closer and that we're supposed to spend all of this time together. But hell, she's one serious mono demographic, she's the kinda girl that really needs to have things clear in her mind in a completely unobtrusive way. No ambiguities, no shades of gray. We're friends or we're not, we like each other or we don't, no attraction, or it cannot be, it's the law of friendship! So I lie, and I've always been good at it and I'll even say I'm amused by it, I get a kick out of it. But it does make me laugh sometimes, the sheer ridiculousness of every little scene put together. I mean, I'm just into her, it doesn't really mean anything in real life. She'ld freak out to know so, but it's not like she's in any danger. I do like her lips and would like to approach her mouth and kiss her, but I wont. And perhaps feel her up, and yes, fantasize about it every now and then, but this is what life is all about, fantasies and fantasizing. And this doesn't mean that I'll pick a moment or other to take advantage of her, or that I'll spot her vulnerabilities or get her drunk at a party to later take her home and confess all passionate love with a hand that undoes her bra in the back. Firstly because it's not something she wants. And secondly, because I don't passionately love her, I'm just into her and friends should be able to deal with that.

E is a different kind of woman, she's older, wiser. What really drives me nuts about her is that she's all experienced and stuff. Hell knows if this is real experience, but she's got that air to her, of a woman who's been around the block a few times and can tell you stories. Not old, just in the know, and not even all that powerful or imposing, if anything I often find her shy and indecisive. But perhaps hard to impress and with beautiful disillusioned eyes, like she expects nothing from you and is just trying to have some fun before she dies. Sharp, and dark somehow, like she won't take your shit. I like that in her, just short of demanding or princessy. But you stop being a princess with age, it seems. You either grow into fully obnoxious queen or quit the act. She just seems fair to me.

S is among the strangest I've ever encountered, she's beautiful alright, but she has a background that makes little sense. She's a second generation hippie, but she's not unapologetic or fiercely independent, she has a bit of both, a bit of everything: jealous of her own space but in need of care and company, devoid of jealousy in relationships but possessive, clear-headed but feral. Contradictory. I don't like contradiction for it's own sake and as such I'm not sure I'll like S for much longer, but she has mixed all of the above with a hectic lifestyle where she's never available, so it might be a while before I actually realize I'm not longer interested in her.

I was just in Toronto for a short vacation. It's like being in the States but not, it's nicer somehow. And yet, in the bottom, it's kinda the same. I must however say that there are several things that I did not expect to see and learn and I was quite surprised by them. People there is really big on cultural differences and you'll hear a lot about white people and their privileges. I guess this makes sense given the clear and 'recent' invasion of white colonialists, whereas if you wanted to state who's the rightful owner and privileged oppressor of the territory comprised by the Italic Peninsula you'd have to review an eternity of occupations, colonies and massacres. What most interested me about the multicultural issue is how at some point in time (probably thousands of years ago, if ever), the cultural group in power (won't call it white people since russians and east-europeans are probably not feeling all that privileged) stopped teaching empathy and began teaching tolerance. Empathy is not only anti-hegemonic, it's completely anti-capitalistic. It requires the investment of time and effort into something that will generate diversity while at the same time strengthening the bonds of a society, creating solidarity and even kindness. All of which are horrific prospects for a society built upon hierarchic differences and a vertical structure of power. Tolerance, instead, solves the problem. It means not understanding anything about the immigrant other, but simply not complaining about his or her existence. Thus all groups representing other cultures can be exploited productively while at the same time keeping a peaceful environment where business can thrive. White Canadians are not just tolerant, they're also empathic, more so than most white americans. The model is still however, that of empathy.
Something completely different that stroke me about 'white people' is how they're picky. They love their personal space, and it's amazing that for the same cultural group that invented and celebrates sex positivity and polyamory, being touched by somebody else can be so discomforting or having somebody else too close can happen so easily. The opposites that meet in them are so far appart from one another, openness to all romantic and sexual encounters and closedness to all non-romantic and non-sexual human contact. They are so weird, white people.

I'm léu and this has been a vacation reentry account.
Merry working polymers to you all!

14 August 2012

The labyrinth of despair

I know we suck as a Live TV, i apologize. I told you some time ago i had had a fight with Bea and then i was already having another one before actually saying I had survived the first one. Well, things have been hot as hell ever since, and it’s not just the summer.
Our problems didn’t actually stop, or they did but only to resurface.
Underneath, however, certain things, unbeknownst to the lot of us, were actually coming together, certain forces were accumulating, going somewhere, and gaining momentum. In other words, I saw a series of fights come one after the other, with me as the center of hatred, and figured they were independent form each other and wouldn’t mean anything in the long run. That problems were being addressed as they surfaced and sooner or later, we’ld kinda have gone through most of them and that we would then stop fighting. But as fights stopped with me, they began somewhere else, with L. And I just thought it was part of the same dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s process, that issues that came to light with me could also lead to useful discussion and
friction elsewhere. All beneficial and constructive.
I was wrong. As me and B stopped fighting, L and B began a fight that opened up before them like the majestic gates of an ancient labyrinth—shit that had to come from Greece or Mycenæ. And as they walked in, I thought I saw a confident gaze in their eyes, even optimistic. Only later did it dawn on us that only one of them would make it out.
I don't believe this to be something that happens exclusively with B and L in this specific context. I realize as i write, that every time we enter a fight with one of the partners we are actually walking into this kind of maze. A labyrinth of despair, complex and daunting, where there are in fact many ways to escape alone but very few to walk out together. And still, the objective is to escape, like in any other labyrinth. It is merely our obsession with what we've had and would never want to lose what makes us irreverent towards the labyrinth itself. Disrespectful before its ancient walls. Like any labyrinth, it has much to teach us, and like all labyrinths, it pits us against ourselves. And we're tough foes.
When defeated, the labrynth quickly lets go of us, but whatever we shared with our partner when entering its dark tunnels is no more.
Small quarrels are probably not comparable to the scenario of near apocalypse that i here portray, and indeed not all minor disagreement will show us the end of the world. But every now and then, and perhaps unexpectedly so, the gates of the labyrinth reveal themselves and we are not forced but compelled to enter.
When B and L entered the labyrinth they did not do so unknowingly. Perhaps they suspected... but they couldn't know for sure. I do believe they could feel the blood of the fallen reeking from under their steps and they knew this was a place where one comes to change. So it comes to mind that maybe that's what they wanted. They wanted to change, or not stop changing, they wanted to follow the flow of what they had, and called relationship. When this flow became a waterfall, there was nothing they could have done.
War broke out.
Now, for good or for bad, I don’t speak to M much. It’s not something I do Intentionally, I’m just not good at bonding with males and M is a quiet kinda dude, so of course he doesn’t make it any easier for me. Anyway, our mutually confortable silence has only been broken once, as M asked me if I wanted help to get things back on their feet with B, during the first fight. This war was not another exception. We didn't talk to each other at all. Not once, not one word. I figure we were both too busy feeling horrified with the display of bloodshed we were witnessing. Either way, I didn't like it how we abandoned each other. We didn't have any business talking it out, perhaps. But I couldn't help but wonder if this could not be done better by actually picking up the phone and giving each other a distress call (Over a flashy red lit-up 80's telephone, if you want).
Or maybe this conflict, this war, was something we had to stay out of, it was not our quarrel to quell.
But of course we were there anyway, we could hear them fighting next door, though in a distorted and childish kind of way, like your parents yelling in the next room, where the specifics escape you and all you get are the occasional “all your fault”.
Nobody will ever know what happened. The first diplomatic incident, kind of like for the Second World War, was a proxy incident. B was not feeling in the mood for sex, but Venice was all romantic and such, and we had some conservative fun. Then B told L and M she didn’t want to have anything to do with sex anymore, and then I told L and M the kinky Venice story.
L called foul arguing a double standard, B said she hadn’t exactly meant a few things she had said. Or she had but not in the way L had understood them. The rest was one misunderstanding after another. A carnival, a whole World Fair of mutual incomprehension. In conversations with us (for I know M had the same job I did at the time: HQ adviser) they
said all kindsa contradictory stuff. They contradicted not only each other in what had been said and suggested, but also themselves. In a matter of a week none of them were making sense anymore, and the more upset they got, the less precisely they could put together an argument.
So they panicked. They were so pissed off at each other that panic is the only thing I could describe things as. Few days later, all diplomats were called in, and the war had ended. Everybody lost, ties were severed, all messaging pigeons to be seen flying anywhere the no trespassing zone would be shot at upon sight. It was a nightmare. And not because they were all stressed up and shit, but because WE had to put up with their shit.
And... well the story of this conflict sort of extends itself like a Star WArs Saga (books included), so suffice it to say, that the axis did realign.
B and L are no more. B and M are still around and so are M and L. B and me are having potato chips as we speak, and L and me just put the italian polyamorous website in third place on the Google ranking.
Uhm... everybody is full of questions. Nobody's asking them, but I know whoever is not 30cm under sand somewhere in the coasts of Sardinia is asking themselves a thing or two. How are L and M gonna meet now, when B is part of the house's cats army? And what about me and L are we still gonna be bff's? oh and, why should we care about yet another Spider Man movie, that's just like the previous one?

All this and more, we ask, but while answers escape us, we can only set the kettle, and brew fresh love flavoured iced tea.
Post-apocalyptic polymers to everyone.
I'm Leu, and I'm still standing :p