(no subject)

[xinjinmeng]

:
One advantage of being a chameleon is that you can blend in to the surroundings.  One advantage of being an anaerobe is that you can be motionless for hours.   One advantage of being a Brobdignagian is that you can displace large furniture, such as couches.  Combine all three, and you may understand my recent habit of occupying public spaces in silent reverie.  I tell myself it isn't really eavesdropping if one is in plain view.  I suppose in my heart of hearts I know that's not exactly true, but one must find ways to pass the time.

While maintaining the poise and dignity of a circular booth, I spent several hours in the Eighth Mountain tea house.  The Dim Sum of the morning gave way to Mongolian for the afternoon, but without respiration I am afraid the scents were largely lost on me, so I will leave it to the gourmets to judge the cuisine.  What I had come to sample was the lighter fare of gossip.

Come evening, four women had chosen my cul-de-sac, and if my knowledge of metabolism is correct, the wine was flowing in greater proportions to the viands than propriety would account.  The quartet complained first of the harsh, firm seating and then later of their occupations and diversions.  If I understood their argot, all four of them were in a polyamorous relationship with a single male.  As the sun crossed the sky and the libations loosened the tongues, it became clear that they had convened here to commiserate that their man had found eyes for a fifth which had the approval of none of these emerita.  Another bottle of wine, the tears came flowing, and it was revealed that yes, indeed, the man had already begun relations with his prospect.  From body language, inflection, and words I gleaned that all four women had had their hearts broken by this. 

I found this entire conversation somewhat baffling. My own superficial impressions of the man was that he had no sense of commitment, that his selfishness had devastated these poor women.  Not to diminish the earnest emotions expressed by the lot, I can say that from what I gleaned of their conversation, no one would be surprised.  I believe I had made the acquaintence of two of these women before and heard them boast of their "s-group" with the pride of defining one's identity in the context of others.

My schooling on polyamory is all but absent, and what I was taught is that it always ends in tragedy.  I am sure others have more worldly views on the subject, and I am of an open mind to review them.

Tonight: aspic and the Horus yoga.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Madam, of course it ends in tragedy. That's the point of polyamory. Joy grows dull and no longer enlivens when overused - sorrow stirs the blood much better and gives the spirit time to recuperate from an excess of amorous intentions...

[xinjinmeng.livejournal.com]

Goodness gracious, I should hope I am never so bored that such emotional masochism has any appeal.

[frostbytepb.livejournal.com]

I shall endeavor always to prevent such a thing from occuring.

That said, it does seem that's what those maidens were seeking, consciously or not - we are not attracked to rakes and scoundrels for the stability they offer, after all.