in an ideal world

It wouldn't be weird to say, You're pretty aggressive, you know. Inappropriately so, but I'm not complaining. Pulling your chair right up against me. Always standing way too close. Leaning in over my shoulder in silent agreement over the obvious.

There's no harm in smelling nice and being friendly.

Really, in an ideal world I could be vocal about it and deal with the consequences.

On being a creep

The more I stop to think about being romantic and creepiness and how fine the line between the two is, the more horrified I become to realize what a creep lives inside me. On the upside, it helps me in appreciating the creepy gestures I've witnessed and heard other people commit. Like when I realized that cancer is simply your body's production of new cells going overboard and AIDS is not a horrible boogeyman eating you from the inside, but your natural defence system shutting down.

It's really not as bad as people make it out to be.

Half the time I don't know how to separate the two, because really, I don't see the difference.

Hey, buying people plant vaginas is okay!

And yet, the very thought of staring at a sleeping person makes me so incredibly uncomfortable. Why would you do that?

As much as I'm sure there are situations in which fear is a useful reaction in your body, it's much more of an inconvenience a lot of the time. I want to (want to) understand why people are so scared, but ... the indifference and distance are making it overly demanding to finish this thought.

[like when] I always get sweaty hands and my body starts caving in at the most incovenient times. It's funny, I don't think anybody notices unless they [have to] take my hand. There's something endearing about a person who takes it like a man - being either party, but then you would only know if you've been there. I have! and they will never know this, because I wouldn't know how to be subtly creepy about it; not a forte of mine.