29/08/2014
Dear me,
I’ve decided to write this blog as a series of letters to you, my future self, because I’ve realised I don’t really know how the hell to write a blog. I’m used to writing essays or articles, things with a purpose. That’s not to say that this is purposeless, just that to embark on a journey of self-discovery, or self-reflection – see? I don’t really know what I’m doing here – isn’t really a purpose. Not in the purposeful sense of the word, anyway.
Where do I begin? I got Tinder a few weeks ago, and then got rid of it. I downloaded it as a joke, or so I told everyone – if I’m honest though, I think to some extent I wanted to see how much attention I would get. Given the recent developments on the sexuality front, I put a little blue tick in the boxes ‘Interested in: Men, Women’. It turns out I’ve been doing dating wrong all these years. For every admirer that was a woman, I must have had at least fifteen or twenty male ones. Apparently I have a cute and/or beautiful smile. And apparently some guys really want to fuck me, even though I never have nor never will speak to them.
It also turns out that sending dick pics to Tinder matches is a thing. At first I was a little disgusted, but then I found it kind of arousing. Not in the ‘Hmmm, I’d love to go on a date with this guy’ kinda way, but more in the ‘Hmmm, I wonder what it’d be like to grasp that in my palm’ kind of way. You know what I mean? No? Ah well. Weird thing is, guys fully dressed don’t seem to arouse me that much. I’ve given it a lot of thought and concluded that it’s probably the result of years of being surrounded by, and participating in, the objectification of women.
That’s all I really have to say at the moment. Sorry that the letters aren’t particularly regular, but I guess I’ll just write them when I get the chance and when I have something to get off my chest.
All the best,
Me
x
Not Seeing Straight 