Sunday, April 25, 2010

DW Ch1: Two Thoughts

[Ed: Confused, read this post.]

The first time Gus thought of her was shortly after brushing his teeth. While brushing his teeth he went to the exceptional effort of patting himself on the back just for remembering to brush his teeth. Such were his irregular hours. Such were the demands of his lifestyle.
And so the thought started forming, from the bathroom to the living room to his bedroom.
Tonight was a special night, Gus was far enough ahead on his schedule to actually go to sleep at a decent hour. (Said schedule wreaked havoc on his teeth brushing routine).
But going to sleep was not as easy as it sounded. He had a minefield of clothing (both dirty and clean arranged in a pattern only he could discern) plates and bowls from malnutritious meals, books lying open for reference and inspiration and yet more books often placed just to prop the reference books up so he could see them from his desk in the corner.
He resolved to leap, from doorway to bed. 1.5 meters from a standing start.
It's more difficult than it sounds and this was proven when Gus landed in bed slamming his left shinbone into the frame. He had the presence of mind to roll forward with his momentum. Push some books and clothing out of the way and lie down willing the burning pane of bone-on-wood contact to dissappear.
The revelation struck him 'I can't look after myself' as he lay there.
That's when he thought of her the first time. Not someone who could cook and clean for him so much, as someone he cared enough about to actually cook and clean for, for fucks sake, he thought, that somebody certainly isn't me.
So Gus just lay there, thinking of her as he went to sleep in his OH&S non-compliant bedroom.

It was infuriating to think of her though, because he didn't know what she looked like or any other details of who she was. All he knew was that he would recognize her when he saw her. But he couldn't see her now, not in his minds eye.

The second time he thought of her was some months later, he had quashed down his need for her by mustering the will to actually clean his room.
On this particular day though he had no deadlines looming to occupy his thoughts. What occupied his thoughts was the woman he was with.
Periodically Gus' friends would succeed in convincing him his problems could be solved simply by getting laid. Most of the time it smacked of superstition, but occasionally his outlook would become so bleak their theory would start looking plausible.
This lady though he had a sneaking suspicion was the sort that just made his outlook worse.
Occasionaly he could shelve his ineptitude and overcome the sever handicap he was endowed with to actually convince a girl at a party somewhere to hook up with him. Being an artist that managed to eke out a living on pretentious magazine cover commissions and t-shirt sales was sufficient he guessed for these women to entertain the fantasy by doing him they were doing something romantic.
As he looked at her his consciousness kept surfacing. She was attractive in an unattractive way, beauty stretched over an abyss of personality that it seemed most guys could shrug off for a while. Or maybe they couldn't, hence her single status now? To Gus she was the sort of girl you made love to because you wanted to punish yourself.
It could produce great sex, in the same way KFC produces great taste. He could lose himself in her and awake hours later with the self loathing.
Tonight though as he contemplated going down on her, he thought of her. Not her but her, the someone he didn't know but would recognise if he saw her.
The someone he actually cared about, and he thought I want to use my lips for kissing someone I care about one day. I want to put my lips on hers..
Gus wasn't normally so prudish as to believe there were legitimate hygenic reasons not to go down, or something as naive and childish as 'true love waits' yet the thought occurred and it stuck with him. So he didn't, lost interest quickly and wished this strranger had the inclination to leave rather than stay the night.
She didn't, she lay her head on his chest. Was she presumptuous or he just cold? Gus didn't spend much time thinking about it, he spent the moments before sleep thinking of her.

He wanted to meet her.

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