I've mentioned my biggest fear before on my old blog, but have I mentioned that the general class is also my favorite fear? It must be, otherwise I wouldn't truly fear it.
I went to a Coma Cinema concert tonight. It was odd, as I looked around I saw a lot of jean jackets without patches. I saw older men, maybe 30ish, definitely my age or older. I saw men who associated with the alcoholic loser in Coma Cinema's music. I saw myself in them. Then I saw on the other side, in the merch line, a bunch of teenage girls. They stamped my hand to show that I'm over 21, something that I guess was unsual. Teenage girls with dyed hair who thought they could save Thomas Kinkade. For a moment I was both tumblrite and tumblrsexyman. My intention before seeing any of this was of course to flirt with some women, maybe some men, and get sloppy drunk; get some tongue in my throat. However, I saw those young girls, and I was terrified. I was terrified that in my stupor I wouldn't look for a stamp on their hands, and instead I would flirt with them and offer some of my drink and kiss them. I was worried that "my body would move in just the wrong way and we would never come back from it." I know I wouldn't do that to someone, but the idea remains for someone else. I think when She told me that I "crossed a line" I felt a little guilty. I wish I could remember, but do I want to remember so I would know, or do I want to remember so I can reminisce? Do I want to actually remember what happened or do I want to lose myself in the reverie of what could have been?
She told me I overpathologize. Maybe it's not that deep. I asked someone who was aro and acespec about how they would feel surrounded by minors, and they said they'd also want to leave. This had nothing to do with the poser punks I also despised. It's normal to feel weird in these situations I think, but for me it is extra weird because I don't know whether I'm operating as an old man or a young girl. I don't know whether or not I'm experiencing age and fem-attraction or if I'm experienceing youth and masc-attraction. Do I wish I could save Coma Cinema because he could and would and did save me when I was overdosing on Percocet? Maybe. Do I wish Coma Cinema could be saved because he like me is an addict and a mediocre artist who is so suffocated by his mediocrity that he hates himself for it? Perhaps. Maybe I am both of these things at the same time and I am afraid of the things I would do to myself and that is why I am so specifically revulsed by this image.