Thru the Golden Ratio of Time of Perigee of such: Prologue

I suppose what I’m trying to do by this (besides talk about myself) is to, for lack of lexicon (biggest word I know) smarts, cohesive thought is a memoir-eques journey of understanding, guilt and what can be labeled as alcoholism/isolationism.

Hopefully thru sharing (to the best of my memory) warts and all, I might find a sense of redemption or at the very least catharsis and Ultimately your judgement.

This is a new format. One of conversation,

A 2:37am conversation.

One of sharing maybe (probably, with my stories) too much.

But will love the sharing, understanding or the opposite of yours to possibly help this old chunk of coal boil things down to a fine diamond of being and with my opposite, share a different view that my make yours glimmer as well.

To Follow; are very true personal stories of an asshole.

 Hopefully they are at least in a way, entertaining enough for you to share, ask, and see the entire picture of what has and hopefully, with your help, will become.

So if you want to be a:

Let’s Have Fun.

 Buckle up shits about to get weird.

Vignette 1:

Sweet and Sour –

What is, isn’t till it’s something else that it has always been or Through the eyes of babes.

Literature, Doctrine, Books, Novels, Comics, Graphic novels, Novellas, pamphlets, or even Play bills have a certain place in a heart of some, if in a way not most.

But what I ask you, what is the difference? Why do you find any of these of that of extreme importance? What is it about your views that are better, stronger and should extinguish that of others?   

Slip on that glove and let’s prostate this.

At my youngest form of understanding.

My Grandmother Cynthia (name comes into play later), was a voracious reader, had books almost entombing her around her seat in the living room. Stacks and stacks of what I call now Saucy novels. These books which are sold now would have blacked out devidered if at a grocery store. They kind of covers that make you feel

 “I can’t believe this is not considered erotica”.

 All the books in her “collection” had Fabio on the cover shirtless and screamed that the author would never say trigger words like

Moist, Damp or Wet but am 40% sure I read a front page review stating

“So steamy, that you better have a handkerchief (early 90s this was still a thing) and a pack of wet net naps, this author knows how to create BBQ in your pants.”

Ok, wasn’t that, but close to as such.

 Would always talk about the books she read with my Aunt Pam (She plays heavily into stories later) how the last one had more Bass but the newer one had more Treble. They would both laugh and end it with an audible “Hhhmmmmmmm” one of knowing and the other of a wanting kind of Hhhhhmmmmmm.

Didn’t understand as such until Meghan Trainor and Wikipedia.

Back to the story. I was having a conversation with, let’s say Amy, about books or literature. We have read similar books, she asked me what I was reading currently and told her Brian Azzarello’s “Torso” she asked me what it was about and started giving her a rough outline of the story. You know to not give to much away.

She finds it interesting, this I know because she said “I’ve never heard of it, that sounds interesting, Where did you get it?” and I tell her it’s a graphic novel.

She gives an Audible negative tone like a Uck, Pffft or a sound one makes when you go too far back with your toothbrush.  To me it rung of a trifecta mixture of the three.

“I don’t read comic books/graphic novels, I read real books!”

*Full Picture Scenario*

I understand that most believe that comics or “graphic novels” are for that, to the oldest, year 14. “Understandable”. But what would you call a person who is past 14yrs old and dresses up every day that Harry Potter is going to be at a REN fair and she is going to be his bride?

Now please don’t miss understand, she’s an amazing person and has a very strong sense of self and fashion.

She knows what she’s about and I respect the hell out of it but she doesn’t with others.

 So let’s have fun.

So, I ask her

 “What book are you reading right now?”

 and she says with a force that cannot be broken or toppled.

“50 shades of Gray”

I audibly laugh, on the inside. Wondering how a Saucy;  better wear a diaper to not make a stain on your furniture, carpet or a face. Book could be any different than that of one that has a storyboard built into it. I feel that she was fighting over format than story.

We are both reading but yours is more important, popular or viewed more social acceptable to a “depravity” than I one I was currently reading?

I see it similar to that of movies (I’m a Huge movie nerd). When you’re in line at the movies and the people behind you start scoffing because

“It was so much better when they only played arthouse movies, now we have to wait in line and all these peoples taste is sssoooo elementary (pronounced Ally-Men-Tree – say it in a British accent).”

*Very close to what actually what was said behind me at Midtown Art Cinema* (I saw a Park chan-wook’s Thirst)

As they get up to the box office and got tickets to a sing-a-long version of Les Misérables.

Which sounds like fun but beside the point. So his words where a Neapolitan of him and I and the whiteness of our choices.

We all learn or tune into different frequencies that are all preached, taught, or taken from that of (the Royal we) others. What’s the power of leverage (fearing humility and not being wanted) when we all have such a similar fulcrum.

It’s hard to find your own uniqueness; it’s even harder, when all you want is to be important to others.

What are you, they, them or we?

1 vs 1 vs 2 vs 3 vs 5? Etc.

Do the math. Break barriers, fire walk with me.

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