|pleasure principle: at your mercy/at your service
||[Apr. 26th, 2005|07:16 pm]
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i thought for a long time that the element of fear was the only/largest factor in my inclination to want to make others smile. i remember a guy saying how he liked big girls. that they were nice: they better be. i was annoyed at the implication that they would find no one and have no justification for their place in society unless they were nice. of course i took this with me and let it congeal for a while. and i still like to make people smile.
i flatter -- and mean it. those times i have a bit of money, i give it or use it to get something for eric. i used to think it was buying friends. i did it for random bums as well. if i felt like giving, i didn't care if they used it to go get drunk. have a sip for me, you know?
at any rate. i love giving pleasure. i see no need to hide that side of myself out of a misguided sense of self-protection. it's not an invitation to be shit on, i just like to hand out a smile, a touch on the shoulder, an unasked for compliment (at an unexpected time). i hand it out like candy. have you ever *watched* someone eat candy? you can stand within a 20 foot radius, watch closely and get a bit of the same pleasure they get. here's a couple o' pieces: thank you bringing_light and theperfumer for the belly dancing tips. i've amused eric to no end by going around the house trying to get my chest to fall the right way and trying to whip my hips in a friendly manner. you are both beauties and ladies of the dance.
there. i love to give a good backrub. i love to braid hair, though i have no skill. i like scratching my mom's head and grooming my nieces like little monkeys. i get off on knowing -- even secretly -- that i am responsible for a little bit of joy experienced by a co-worker, a boss, eric. i don't feel at anyone's mercy anymore. and that's somehow added to the jolt of giving. i wish i could give to my blood family more. but i'm so lacking in funds of late. i wish i could give eric that trip to holland he wants so badly. i wish i could give paris hilton a ham sammich. i want to give a hug to the guy in the library across from me; he looks sad. but they won't let me, will they? so i give to myself in the form of food. food. food. i love to eat. that said, those of my spiritual family who are physically near, even if i don't know you well, beware: i may go lakshmi on your ass. ask for a gift. it shall be given. i don't have many talents, but they are yours. what do you want from me? *head tilted in curiosity, not pulling out hair in exasperation* if someone doesn't want anything from you, even if it's only your company, are you any good to the world? hmm. i don't know.
i'm going home to treat myself to a movie ("garden state") and eric to a movie ("saw". he loves horror and comedy. he doesn't do nuance and finds some films hard to follow). then it's a little time on danish and perhaps to bed. and to dream of ways to make my co-workers happy tomorrow. *rolls eyes* even the one who gets on my nerves. i want to give. most folks just don't know how to take graciously. rather than their eyes lighting up and immediately wanting to share the joy, there's that annoying sense of entitlement. it's such a buzzkill. and makes you want to keep your gifts for yourself. balance, Lula. balance...