Of Lucifer And The Strange One

"I'm oblivious." It was a statement that came out of what some may call blue. "Sometimes. Well, most of the time." Came an even quicker defense of the statement, I was stumbling quickly over the words I had carefully formed in my head. It's a bit of a nervous habit, taking time to think out phrases and contexts long before I say them. I let them build up until I'm absolutly sure I'm prepared for the consequences. These thought out bursts of monologue quickly become awkard when I begin to stumble.

"Johnny Cash, forty-two or twelve?" He asked me, trying to help settle me with a bit of laughter. I failed to laugh but was successful in smiling.

"Forty-two." I answered, taking a deep breath in order to build the last bit of courage I needed to utter the words. "Look...this is weird. And I've probably over thought it. Cause, I overthink everything and that's a tangent. Yeah, I'm attracted to you. And it makes me nervous to say anything because I asked you to marry me to help me with citizenship and..." I took another deep breath, I was letting the waves of anxiety rush over me as I spoke. I needed to calm myself again but the butterflies in my stomach forbade it. "That's not it. I'm attracted to you. It distracts me and makes me blush. I can't focus sometimes because I just want to know if there is chemistry."

The amused look on his face intrigued me, scared me a little. Almost. But I continued on. I had come this far. "Nevermind that I need to read these books for work and this would be much smoother if we could just get this out of the way."

He chuckled. Chuckled and looked as if he were considering his own words, or pausing pensively for the dramatic effect. Of course. "Well." He began slowly, that eternally mischievous grin forming under his goatee. "It was my plan to come over there with you as I am attracted to you as well." That smile. It always glowed.

~~~~~~~~~

I have butterflies in my stomach again. It's getting to be surreal and somewhat reassuring, although I can't recall in the least when this has ever happened to me in the past. The only time they go away is when I am with the Strange One. This is making me nervous, giddy... excited and anxious. Why? Because I don't know what it all is!

Hi, I'm Nunabutt. We just met a post ago, when I started this blog. Or maybe, we met in another life which in some circles could also be another website. I write for four sites. Comic Reviewers, Gaming Craft, Broken Pocky and Thinking Fluidly. You can find those links somewhere on this page. I am also an American expatriate beginning to try for citizenship in a new country. I'm a writer, a chef, a sommelier, a bartender, a ditz, an anarchist, a disillusioned catholic... different titles for different days. Today I think the discription of writer, pot head, ditz are the fitting ones. Espicially if I add professional onto ditz and then we'll call it a rambling thought. Back onto topic...

Forming of the topic that is.

The butterflies in my stomach.

I'm trying to read through the eleven volume collection of "Lucifer" at a friends house. For a completed series, I find it ridiculous to review one little snippet ontop of the other when a series should be viewed upon as a whole unless the writer changes. But that's a discussion for another time. I've gotten seven issues into the series with five volumes to go and I'm going through these periods of not being able to focus at all on the task at hand. The Strange One distracts me. Sometimes he means to, undoubtably and others it's just his presence. It's this screaming attraction to him when we met for the first time that smacks me across the face and forces me to pay attention.

But, the fact remains that the butterflies in my stomach won't go away.

It could always be that this batch of pot makes me overly pensive. And yes, I'll admit, I'm a pothead. Sometimes it calms my brain down and allows me to focus on these thoughts that I'm somehow molding into internal monologues. Some of these are one sided conversations that should be held with the person they are focused towards. Most of the times they are forgotten. Just happy to state such facts to myself is reward enough. Not this time though. I'm too confused in these regarding the Strange One. And this is new for me.

Normally people are somewhat easy to read, even for someone as oblivious as myself. The Strange One is a wall. Solid and unreadable. Well, not entirely, just enough so that things are confusing as fish swimming in opposite directions. I don't do well with patience, confusion and curiosity. And at this point all three are running rampant through my brain making even a shiney moment near impossible. A part of me needs to know the intention or the direction of the meeting between the Odd and the Strange. Though I need to straighten out my own thought process. What is the story of this?

Will it read like Terry Pratchett? Explode in your mind like Terry Gilliam? Or will it play back like a View Askew production?

Speaking of View Askew, I do need to remember to see Zack and Miri Make a Porno. Yes, there was your shiney moment.