November 10, 2004

  • Blood and touching…

    In the coming home commute, eating tacos from the cart on 96th, Super Tacos Sobre Ruedas, I noticed a bumper sticker on the semi parked in front of the Gristedes.

    We hold the trucker pledge, keeping things moving 24 – 7 – 365.

    And its true, truckers keep this fucking society moving. How does fish get inland? Truckers. How does every stocked good at a supermarket get stocked? Truckers. How does weed get over the boarder? Truckers.

    That’s what im saying, yo. Keep on trucking.

    Even when the world hits you up a nice sucker punch to the balls, or slips it in balls deep with no lube, you just gotta keep rollin’ like the G you know you are.

    This is advice I must remember.

    Which obviously brings me to touching. This oft forgotten (until its NOT forgotten) sense drives me crazy. It has this wacked out power over me that I have to keep batting with a stick. Yes, I beat down my stick with a stick.

    (And here, because I have had this conversation with other people, some might say there’s good touching and bad touching. And yes that’s very true, so let’s say for sake of argument that we are only going to focus on good touching here).

    Why does hugging someone, having physical contact please me? Why am I a slave to this weird living breathing sweating thing that encompasses me.

    Because I am incredibly touchy feely. I love touching skin. I am man enough to say it. That’s why cuddling’s so hot. That connection that you can’t quite verbilize, that eerie in between ‘thing’ that makes massages sexual and yet not. (god its all been done. How can I write a line like that and not mention pulp fiction with its wonderful deconstruction of foot massages and why you just can’t go there with marselis wallace’s wife).

    Sometimes (mostly these recent days) I have gone through touching withdrawl. With no girlfriend, and witth no easy social scene that surrounds me with girls that are my friends I find that I can go through large stretches of time without touching anyone. Then I find myself pinching people at work, having the urge to put my hand on someone’s shoulder, just to get that physical sense something to run on.

    Touching is just weird.