Full moon

Does it change the way you think and act?
Maybe it's the placebo effect, but I feel it.

Lunacy, is derived from Lune

It's widely believed that people get excited on a full moon.
There a lot of theories as to why this is.
The pull of gravity.
An imbalance of ions.
Light sensing eyes inside our brains.
Werewolves.

My guess is that if women sync up to the moon, then there are a lot of extra pheromones wafting around.
If half the city goes into heat, the other half will notice.

Sounds plausible doesn't it?

----------------

I feel like that now.
I feel like I can't take it any longer.
but I did.
Was it to prove a point?
Who do I mean to prove it to?

A poet tonight said something like " I think you're sooo...sexy, because you're beautiful inside and out.
The fact that I melted in the audience is an indicator.
What I want is understanding.
A man on the bus home struck up a conversation.
So I asked him what was on my mind:
"What do people want?"
"Acceptance, he answered"
Can we gain wisdom by not caving to this demand of ours?

That's what I want to know.
Maybe this celibacy is more than sorting out the people I think understand me, and are 'worth my affection.'
Maybe I want to know if I'll learn something from it.
Or maybe I'm hoping for confirmation where there is no reason or benefit from it.

There's got to be a reason behind it.
One more week, that's not a lot. And I'll have the chance, not to only have wild amazing sex, but to engage in meaningful intimacy.
Because if I had gone home with any of those men tonight, I would just berate them with weird questions like
"What are your dreams?" and
"What's the most beautiful thing you've ever felt?"

Because that's my pillow talk.
It's not for the slight of heart ;)

(I'm still drunk off tequila and I hope that pun makes as much sense as it seems to.)

xoxo
signing out
->the girl who gave you her card instead of her heart.

Ps. I wanted to say something like this to a poet tonight:

"I know why I can't think of anything to say around you. It's because your beauty steals the words out of my mouth." but instead, I mumbled "I'll upload those caricatures of you, the ones where you have big ears and a tiny neck. My number is on this card too" ...and I promptly ran off into the night. SLICK!

Sometimes just feeling those butterflies is worth never finding out if it would amount to anything.
And leaving that boy in his hotel room feels like a little like lugging my dignity all the hour and a half home, but completely awesome at the same time. Huge thanks go out to the friend who knows the look that says "Despite my arguments, convince me not to go back in."
BLAM! Psyche strikes again! Now that the regret has been sloughed off, I feel good. Not prideful, but happy all the same.