Maybe I'm an open-book because I know you're mine

But you won't need to read between the lines.

Warning, this journal entry may be rated PG-13, depending on who's doing the rating. And for those who suspect why I'm writing about this, well you're probably partially right.

Last night at the grocery store they had my dream radio station on. Or, I should say, my dream easy-listening/soft rock station. They played that Boz Scaggs song Love, look what you've done to me. I don't know if that's the title or not, but seems like a good bet. Though you never know with those songs -- I just re-learned that one of my former favorite songs by Barry Manilow is called 'Weekend in New England', but I think I always called it When Can I Hold You Again or something similar. I'm not necessarily someone who's strongly opinionated in song-labelling, as in believing that the song title should have specific and obvious meaning. But I do find it weird when songs have obvious choruses (chori?) that repeat ad nauseum THEN they try to be clever by naming the song something obtuse. Why don't they channel some of that cleverness into the songwriting? But I digress.

Last night I had back-to-back dreams involving searching the house for missing belongings -- first my hat, second the laptop case. When I woke up, I discovered something WAS missing. My packer. Very bizarre, since I've never had my dick fall off in my sleep before. I located it fairly quickly underneath my partner's legs so I wasn't emasculated for too long. I did seriously feel like I was missing a limb, even if it's a ghost limb to being with. Pretty much the only time I'm without Mr. Tricky is in the shower (though I sometimes take baths with him -- adult tub toys).

Today Mr. Tricky is getting showed off more than usual because I'm wearing my tight jeans. Yow. They aren't as tight after wearing them 4-5 times, but these are freshly washed, so occasionally while sitting there are some nice package lines. Maybe I should have worn my fag packer today -- the 8 inch Softie. It's pretty ridiculous, though not as bad with boxer briefs. I call it my fag packer, since most women I know/date/flirt with aren't generally size queens so they don't appreciate it's size as much as the boys.

When I first started packing, I was obsessed with touching myself. I mean, more than usual. I sometimes wonder if I was dating someone that had a biological cock if I would get dumped because I would become obsessed with their's. Not even just in a sexual way -- also in an annoying poking and prodding way. But then again, depending on the guy, it might be an asset in the relationship. Of course, my obsession would possibly fade over time, whereas his is a lifelong love affair.

I have no plans for bottom surgery. I also don't think my manhood is lacking because I don't have a biological cock. But that doesn't mean I don't want one. I just wish it was fully functional AND still detachable or exchangable. I guess I don't even want to commit to wanting one (let alone owning one). Is it possible to test-drive a penis? I might have to wait until I'm 25. It'll be like renting a car.

Sometime I wonder if I did take on a lover with a bio-cock, after having sexual experiences, I'd either suddenly become gripped by an intense feeling of being incomplete and non-man. Other times I wonder if it would completely disillusion me and I'd be turned off from cock forever. Or maybe it would just be a lot of fun. Perhaps I should investigate test-driving someone ELSE's cock.

uh-oh

As an old-acting teenager, I was always hugely resentful of people who made assumptions or teased me about my age and any limits or stereotypes that came with it. I usually just shut my mouth and ignored them, and sometimes I would eventually gain their respect.

But in the past month I've had several conversations or occasions when I blamed a person's behavior on their age (generally being younger than me, though in one instance they were the same age). I've even caught myself saying (on several occasions) "Oh my, it's SOOoo obvious this person is only ____." When did this happen?

Though to my credit, I'm still acting way different then most folks, i.e. I don't assume from the get-go that a person will act a certain way, it's more that something will come out of their mouth that indicates to me their immaturity or inexperience, or more accurately, I had misjudged their experience and in reality they are exactly where they should be. But then again, who isn't exactly where they should be? If they weren't supposed to be there, they wouldn't. Again I digress.

Not that I'm a towering pillar of wisdom and experience and adulthood and self-actualization in the form of a near-25 year old queer. But maybe, like that cult Landmark teaches, I've learned to know what I don't-know. And in most cases, I seem to be encountering people who think they know and know-it-all. They don't know all the things they don't know.

Now I just need to actualize my actualizations and realize my realizations.