Verisimilitude + Truthiness

Speaking of geriatric Klingons with mommy issues and too much time on their hands, hello, Internet! I realize it’s been a few days since my last post, although the gap is nothing compared to my previous gaps in the space time continuum. I’ve been self-absorbed and delusional as usual. How have you been? Re: The title: it’s the word of the day plus a word coined by Stephen Colbert, both relevant here, because often in my life there are things which appear to be true, or I feel are true deeply in my gut, but, in either case, I can find no verifiable evidence; it also pertains to things like the this Instagram image I took, wherein I took great pains to make sure that my blessed rack and bedroom eyes were as amplified and emphasized as possible with angles and edits. 
Wordy but grammatically correct sentences aside, sometimes my socially inept nature kicks my proverbial ass. Case in point: does it make sense to blog publicly about unrequited love when the object of such unrequited love is a colleague who is also a Facebook friend when you have links to your blog entries fed to your Facebook page? Does it make sense to give said individual a direct link to your blog and tell them, and I quote, “I welcome hecklers” when you are fully aware that their spare time often involves reviewing and heckling various media? Does it make sense to publicly link my author page which includes my blog’s RSS feed so he and multiple other colleagues can read it? Does it make sense to invite myself along to meals with and wish I could attend concerts with another colleague I think is attractive but probably heterosexual and certainly more into him than ever into me?
Of course, there’s no evidence to suggest that said individual has already read the posts. There’s no evidence that he is actually dating the other colleague. There is no evidence that I am anything but a random person in the office with whom either interacts randomly for no other reason than boredom. There’s no evidence of–and of course I am simply imagining–the awkwardness, condescension, and derision.
I realize that on some level I am projecting my lack of intimacy of any kind on any random person who pays me the slightest bit of attention. I realize that my previous track record in these kinds of things is to either overemphasize my attraction or keep it deliriously  hidden or further project it on another more perfectly wrong individual. I realize that there are other intelligent and humorous people in my life I could accept attention from or give attention to.

I realize that it is probably best to avoid intimacy of any kind until Corvid is eighteen or older, in spite of my doctor’s reassurance that my wounds have almost healed and birth control is affordable and safe. I realize that blogging about the dangers of blogging about unrequited love while further explaining the entanglements of my own unrequited love is quite ridiculous. I realize that “requited” love is often far less glamorous. I realize that, when it comes to love, I tend to want what I cannot have and have what I should not want. 

I realize this, but in the immortal words of Wade Hays, I’m old enough to know better, but I’m still too young to care.

Speaking of awkward situations, I should probably seriously put more effort into being as professional as possibly any time I leave the house. It seems my students appear randomly on public arenas and want to talk, expecting me to listen.

Yes, I acknowledge your existence, but maybe the middle of Wal-Mart or the lobby of my daughter’s counseling office or the lobby of my counselor’s office are inappropriate venues for engaging me in conversations about your grades and due dates. Emails and visits to my office are better suited for these things.

But of course I never say these things aloud to students who accost me in public places. I never tell people I have a crush on them when I meet them in a graduate class and allow it to fester into unrequited love when chance brings me to the same place of employment. I never tell people with whom I cohabitate that they annoy me or frustrate me or enrage me until we break up or I blow up or erupt or irrupt.
Inspirational lyrics while writing this post:
Mumford and Sons–I gave you all

Panic! At The Disco–What a wonderful caricature of intimacy

Cage The Elephant–Ain’t no rest for the wicked, until we close our eyes for good. 

Sent from my iPhone
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