Okay so you asked me why some people like to play with toys :

There’s this invisible coding running through the air , words of things we should do Written on long rolls of score sheets , fed directly into our minds and everyone is so entrained we don’t notice it .
I sat next too my boyfriend at a vegan pizzeria , in a pleasant open air area covered with grapevines , the interior had this wood-lined vintage regalia with vinyls framed on the walls , as well as street art drawings, his shrewd mouse looking brother , sat with his girlfriend whispering to her as he sliced the pizza , “ okay this pizza slice will be for you , and youll eat it and then this pizza half will be for me , the next one will be for you , and then I’ll eat the last one” it was almost as if these special instructions where whispered to him from some source in the air . I felt bad for him , his life was run by these , walking along thin dire straits , clinging to walls in his mind , having a strong helpess curiousity for maps , especially to find his way home , even asking me if I knew how to navigate this map to find a way home for him, getting stirred up ,vibrating a bit. Though I do confess , most of gen x , freak out when their friend doesn’t immediately answer the door , and huffs away or messages them every 5 seconds to see how close they are. Something about the root chakra , their nueral messages getting crossed and mixmatched with the signals from their phones , assuming that a friend has bad intentions , not nurturing themselves , feeling hotheaded , impulsive , judgemental , wanting nurturing . I invited a cute smoothie shop boy I met over for a hookup and when I wasn’t at home yet running an errand 5 minutes away he said , “ omg your playing games with me , I’m already back home !” Only to have him return 5 minutes later , after I explained where I was. Phones are so harsh and paranoia producing , burning our faces with it’s emfr waves , people that are on their phones tend to not nurture themselves anyways or receiving the loving glow from those who encounter , temperance , compassion , and sometimes not through knowing just by osmosis , like receiving sun on warm summer beachy sands with a Corona beer in one hand and pleasant banter filing the tiki thatch hut bar .
Once I was walking through a beautiful lilypad pond park outside of an upscale shopping mall after work and I invited a friend too join me , knowing he likes bouts of fresh air . I started to feel paranoid of his usual pattern of becoming furious at me if he can’t find me immediately , like a man hunting a woman , except all of his could-be-passion and romantic energy was sucked dry by the dopamine fucking visual light freakfeast blinding his eyes , that would be looking for a flower that reminds him of me to pick , and thinking of my big brown innocent beautiful eyes with a redish firey hue behind them . I couldn’t move and enjoy the park whilst waiting for him approaching , texting me I could feel his anger at having to figure it out , and forgetting hes texting another person on the other side of the phone . I thought to be the nurturing voice and calm him down and gently tell him where I was and describe how beautiful it was…..
Just like my boyfriends mouse of a brother is bound by this invisible scripture to keep his head down , ration out pizz and follow maps … I feel as though I’m always harshly telling myself certain things I should do , like I should sit up straight , I should go for a run , even I should fuck . Like a demon is sittign atop my shoulder , so heavy. It’s an entrainment, a thing we-should-do , I’m sure it even informs the shape of our bodies in how we carry ourselves , along with our memories that guide our behavior.
I rushed quickly home holding the tiny dollhouse Lior bought me , giggling madly to myself , trying to contain myself as I was so happy , yet afraid something would mess it up , or Lior would leave ,. I felt the entrainment’s disappearing … as I relaxed into my lopsided self , walking alongside his broad frame ,almost as if I couldn’t walk without him , I gently cupped my hand into his as , I let my entire body spring and fall , my head lopped with my hair falling before my face ,silently laughing to myself , sickly , deliriously , I let everything go , smiling , like a silly dark person in love , engrossed , almost “autistic” like in the sense of truly retreating into my own world ,maybe some would judge me and say something is wrong , how can this person care for themselves ? except it’s sexy , and he’s with me right now . Its retreating back and getting in touch with this exposed vulnerable , natural state of being , pure energy expressing itself through the body , without the judgement informed conscioencious constantly elling like a drill sergeant w a megaphone to stand up straight . It just looks dark , or twisted because it’s hard to do . Being in love is insane . It’s sick looking because of the wetness , the sex appeal , the engrossment .
there would be a tension of him having one foot out the door and one in , instead of a gargoyle with his wing like shoulders , scooping up high by his neack and folding out to protect me , this questioning instead of playing along in this experiential theater , where all I want to do is forget the outside world and play . I want to forget this sea of faces , that I search for meaning in and just find a headache , as it impregnates my subconscious with supposed things thatll change the way I move , so that Ill find peace or a clue in a broader puzzle of life and it almost never does , it just has me feeling alienated and overworked , like a film fanatic obsessing and losing sleep over studying the symbolism in inception . I want to forget it’s grime and imposition , the senseless ones who slug along and muck up my open air , where I wait for the currents to strike my windmill and percolate , great music .
I felt this girlish rush , I was trying to mask it with this act like I was a “crazy girl” I felt half exposed and half so deeply grateful and renewed in my love of this gift I started to feel ,like a Christ-girl. Not one of those stupid , ones , just a beautiful one with this feeling of moonlight emanating from my flesh , having a sense of responsibility and purpose , not quite contemplative nor daydreamy nor absorbing , just passively accepting light in , nobly , accepting care from those around them without letting it impinge on their existing . Yet with this crazy pink static my mind frying still at the thought of Lior being in-and-out and the idea of him not accepting me .
I started to feel like I could enter my artistic flow , generating one idea after another , as I laughed with stiffled maniacal laughter taking out the dollhouse , mentioning , “ this is our future house , with all of our friends” placing it on my bookshelf and deciding to rain my bag of used condoms all over the house” laughing as I did so , photographing myself Luarie Simmons style , inspired by the adolescent aesthetic online trend of “ truamacore” ………