From Journeys and Transitions
December 9, 2005
Last evening, after I finished writing, I sat down to watch some television. At one point in the program, Teresa wandered in and knelt down by my chair. Wordlessly, she gently placed her hand on my shoulder and stroked her fingers down my arm and I responded. Slowly, gradually, things progressed until we were involved in some pretty heavy petting.
I’d love to go into details, but I try to focus on informational and experiential content, rather than pandering to prurient instincts. But I don’t mind teasing them….
Nonetheless, the point here is not a hot and heavy sex scene between two gorgeous ex-trannies cum women, but on a mind-trip that this little recreation engendered within me.
After a few minutes Teresa gracefully exited to return to her chores. And normally, I would have done the same. But I found that unlike all previous times we had so engaged, this evening the feelings of raw sensuality continued to roll over and through me. There was not diminishment with time. Minute upon minute I remained motionless in the chair except for the occasional moan or head roll.
I kept expecting some slow down or conclusion, but instead, I just closed my eyes as the room around me seemed to fade away. I found myself in something akin to what they call a “fugue state” in which one loses track of physical actuality and becomes enraptured in a highly creative mind-set where intangibles form a new reality.
The closest I have ever come to a fugue state was when I came up with the equation of Mental Relativity that formed the basis of the entire psychological Story Engine at the heart of Dramatica, which we patented while I was Director of Research and Development at Screenplay Systems.
But that earlier experience, documented elsewhere in my diary, was an intellectual endeavor, a state of mind, whereas the episode this evening was a state of heart. Moment to moment it went on and on, and I felt in a timeless place where I hung suspended between ecstasy and euphoria.
I lost myself in that netherworld for I don’t know how long, until the ongoing intensity was so cumulatively powerful that I had to break free. It wasn’t easy. But almost in mental lunges, I lurched fore and back until I was able to open my eyes again and see the room around me.
As I came to, I sat stunned for quite a while, then finally rose and began to walk about, wondering what the hell had just happened.
I considered that it had something to do with my mind opening up even further, now that the outside matched the inside. I reviewed the feeling, not unlike drifting in and out of morphene during my surgery where I felt as if I were fully lucid, only to wake up again and realize I had been asleep, and wondered if it was some sort of anesthesia flash-back, perhaps drugs squeezed into the system as the swelling reduced.
I still have no idea what caused it, but later, when we went to bed and touched, it happened all over again, and left me spaced out and undulating on the sheets.
I have no way of knowing if this is the same place you see women go in the movies when they become fully involved in their sexuality. Is that just a male fantasy that doesn’t really exist, or is it written into the script because some, not all, women have an area of their minds they can access which the male brain simply does not possess?
Is that too self-serving to think that perhaps it is real, and perhaps my recent discovery of how to get there is actual proof of the way my brain is wired (as if I needed any at this point?) Could it be some sort of test to determine the sex of your brain?
Or is it just a brain tumor or the beginning of mental illness?
I have no answers at this time, but can report that since then, I have learned how to hover at the edge of that dreamy state whenever I want for as long as I like. It is almost like having the ability to hold yourself in that limbo twixt waking and sleeping just before you drop off to slumber, but never quite falling there and never quite pulling out of it. In essence, I almost lose consciousness and get a little woozy.
Then later, in the middle of the dark night, I found myself unable to get comfortable on the raised pillows I am supposed to sleep on until the swelling is gone. Sometimes, in such situations, I get up for a few minutes, have a cup of tea, and return to bed.
But this night, I lay back in my reclining chair, which seemed much more friendly, and let my mind wander over the events of the day. Suddenly, I realized the light was on, and Teresa was speaking to me from her computer desk. I turned to answer her and realized I must have dozed off. And then I woke up to find I was only dreaming, Teresa was not there, and I was laying on our oversize sectional gray couch. But we don’t own a couch. And then I woke up, and Teresa was still speaking to me from her computer desk. And then I woke up and it was dark, and I was alone in my chair. I got up and walked back to the bedroom, and Teresa was still sleeping where I had left her.
I returned to my chair, wondering what the hell had happened, and then fell asleep again, dozing in and out, seeing the sky gray up, seeing the blue green color of the pines through the kitchen window in a momentary glimpse, then out again, and back to sunlight on the hills. I finally rose for good and found Teresa just stirring, and it was a quarter to nine in the morning.
So, am I becoming delusional, suffering a malady of the gray matter, or is it just a normal response of a confined female spirit suddenly being given its freedom because it seems a stranger in the mirror?
I’ll leave this open for further exploration later. For now let me move on to today’s news.
Just a brief description follows, as I’d like to get on to other things.
We ventured out again today, as we were short of fuel for the pellet stove, I needed a head-cleaning tape for my camcorder and a little vitamin E oil to put on the scar when the stitches come out.
So, we stopped by the True Value hardware store, Radio Shack, and the Safeway. And then, after dropping the stuff off at the house, we took off again for Placerville and the KFC for a combination late lunch and early dinner.
Now, in all those places, even with my little stitch mustache, I had a completely warm reception. You might say it was all in my mind now, or if not, that I was just paranoid before. But I know there was a difference – I could see it in their eyes.
Dr. O has made me unreadable with a simple upturn of the lip. And even with the gash out in the open, I’m treated as I am – a woman who’s essentially had a revision of her nose job.
Though I know the newness will pass in time, for now, let me revel in feeling complete, natural, unreadable, honest, genuine, content, and at ease as I never have been before.
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