My Panties, Greg, The Chosen Reality

         How would you define matrix, Vixen?

 I was truly surprised by Greg’s curiosity. We had been immersed in the weird you-and-I-do-not- exist talk at the wabbly outdoor table for hours. It was late, the evening downtown of Saint Pete felt like the mixture of blooming jasmine and spring rain. I felt his hands on my thighs under the table; the palms were soft and warm. The most wonderful man in the world was here, with me, for real, I closed my eyes enjoying the moment.
          It is a very rigid worldview that does not allow us to see anything beyond what we are taught to see.
          I need an example
          You cement yourself in your principles. You proudly bury yourself under your freaking honesty and directness, your mind tells you that there is no alternative to your rigid perception of this reality. Your mind tells you, “there is no other way for you, there is nothing beneath or beyond what I created”.

 His fingers slid into my panties. I looked around. Passersby were focused on their Friday night, no one really cared. I continued, – You agree with what your mind says, you associate yourself with your mind, you firmly believe that you are what your mind created for you. Your mind got you behind the bars of the denial that there are myriads of other realities as illusory as yours, that you can change your perceptive filters and find yourself in an absolutely different world; that you can juggle various realities until you find the once that you like and agree to live in it, knowing that this reality is fake like everything your mind creates.
          Wow, that’s deep.
          People’s rigidity generates their matrix. You generate yours, I generate mine, and so on.
          Did you choose the reality you are living now?
          Yes, Greg
          Am I in your reality, Vixen?
          Fuck off

His hand in my panties felt nice, I stretched and slowly looked into his eyes. There was nothing there, no feelings, no emotions, absolutely nothing. He was like a peach, very soft and warm from the outside, with the inside pit impossible to crack.

 The world I chose to live in involved the unrequited love. I had no idea why my mind got me into that particular reality, hurtful and hopeful, loving and hating, rising and falling. I cared, he did not care. I knew the matrix was fake, I knew both him and I did not exist, but it did not save me from feeling pain.

2 thoughts on “My Panties, Greg, The Chosen Reality”

  1. love exists by itself, for itself… it needs no rewards, but when it's returned… what's the worth of this life?
    ps. pls add subscribe button to the blog:)


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