Recreating (and advancing) pk’s censored domains: Macroinformation.org & Knatz.com / Personal / Stories / pk by Age / Pre-Draft Limbo /
@ K. 2006 04 23
No, It Don’t Mean What You Think
My pet name for Hilary was “Pot.” No, I am not — and, à la the McCarthy era, have never been — a devotee of cannabis. No: I called Hilary “Honeypot,” eventually leaving the “honey” as understood.
Years ago, 2001, I started telling a series of stories that were to lead up to my meeting Hilary. They’ve been bogged in the same place since, mostly for the same reason: it’s too close to home. And now I’m planning to remove the stories that were told to an anonymous blog: I called them “Sex” stories and I don’t want even the idea of the subject distraccting from the high purpose of Knatz.com. Here I’ll just say that my attraction with Hilary was mutual, instantaneous, but it was an addiction; never a friendship. Our minds met on occasion, and loved each other for those moments, but mostly it was just friction: a lot of heat, and no way to get out of it.
Nevertheless my affection for her was boundless. Friends mocked me as uxorious. “Pot, Pot, Pot, Pot, Pot, Pot, Pot” I would iterate like a motorboat.
What in the world did people think I was saying? There were plenty of knowing glances: the bulk probably wrong.
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