Got my cowboy strut on, the over-the-shoulder bandoleer, two low slung six guns riding lazy on each hip – texas tall and spitting bullets! All debonair cool and moxie tang, I'm waxing pure mojo.

Many of my friends think this a bad idea, for a sprinkling of various reasons. To clarify: I'm starting to “see” a woman. We have a “thing”, she has a fiancée. We're trying polyamory for the win. I'm (amazingly) (bizarrely!) (whoa!) feeling comfortable and happy with the way things are going. It's only been a few weeks but so far it seems like the biggest problems come from other people reactions. Like they're more weirded out than I am, weirded out more than anyone actually involved. The first thing I got was “oh sweeeet bro, you're fooling around with someone's fiancée! You devil! You are a bad baaaad dog!” (half-wink, wide grin, the stage manager gives the que for the obligatory high five). I'm a stud, she's a slut, you know how these double standards work, par for the course, rules of the game. Otherwise, like, it's ok, but it's just this kinky swinger sex kick. Cucumbers, fluffy handcuffs, the works. That is what people normally mean by an open relationship right?

That's not how it is at all. I dunno, I don't know her fiancee super-well, but I like the guy, and we seem to get on, and I respect him: smart dude, no doubt, and in the template course of things,seems like we could be friends, and I still don't see any reason why not

So what's say you want a relationship relationship with her?

Unpossible. Her fiancée can't really be cool with it, he's obviously kidding himself. Plus you're eventually gonna want MORE, choices will have to be made; “Toot! Toot!”, full steam ahead into the emotional train-wreck; an angry, savage, greasy cluster-fuck of hurt, the clash of antlers, mixing twisted steel, a white hot explosion expanding rapidly outward into total social meltdown and then, eventually! involuntary committal within the calming pink walls of a state run psychatric hospital.

Hey, I mean it's a nice idea in theory but it's never going to work in practice right! The three body problem is intractable under Newtonian physics, the ordinary classical mechanics can't solve it. And maybe that's the real problem. When you're looking at the world through a pair of high-powered binoculars every tiny insect on the lens looks like some enormous monster. Keep shoving round pegs into square holes, damn key don't fit so it's useless, but is this really the wrong key? cos maybe you're just door-knocking on all the wrong houses.

Everything is based around this paradigm of two people. Any deviation from this and there's obviously, a problem, must be, the entire state of Denmark reeks of week old fish. Can't work. You can't have your moon and eat it too. And normally that IS how things go. If there's a third person there's a problem, in the standard two person scenario. A bull got over the fence somewhere, and even worse than the sex is the emotional infidelity. There's only so much love to go round! And that's exactly why I only have one friend at a time. They start getting jealous! You have to start to fit people in, make yourself a schedule, keep a diary of times and names and places. Don't want to tell Mary you can't see her Saturday cos you're attending Bob's birthday party... awwwwwwkwaaaaaaard.

So maybe I want this to work. Like actually properly work. Maybe I believe it actually can work. Maybe it doesn't seem totally implausible to me. Maybe it shouldn't seem so totally implausible to you?

But, hey, it's my life. Fuck what people think. I admit the potential for damage is high, but if I didn't want to take risks I wouldn't get out of bed in the morning.

http://www.faqs.org/faqs/polyamory/faq/

first two tone stencil, bit of over-spray, drips etc. but not too bad

So so often it's far better to be arctic rational than it is the arid opposite. Still, then again, sometimes it's best to let your warm heart rule the icy tundra of your head. To be honest, I don't know if this is wise advice at all, but I'm addicted to it anyways, like a gambler to a losing streak.

Any like I see I wonder if I'm just thinking-too-much or thinking-too-little or else folding a thousand orgami cranes outta my wishful imagining and then telling them to fly. Feelings, they are the only thing that makes life worth living, but also on occasion they are hateful and horrid and full of creeping dread.

You're kinda stunning, and I am Just Me. You can't apply the calculus of econmic utility to emotions, they are pearls of infinite price; totally worth twice the market cost of riches without end.

Sometimes feeling are full of a semi-quaverous trember, half-one note and half the next. You consider your life like a work of modern art and it gets you nowhere, there isn't any exposition or exegesis of the text that makes any real sense, it is what it is and that's it.

A good mood can colour everything, a bad mood, bleach ice it out.

Like bathtub ships in stormy winds,

I have really, really tried to be a nice guy. I think have gone both above and beyond honestly—But FUCK THIS, I am going to BANG SOME HEADS TOGETHER.

Tell the cleaners to bring some stain remover.

Met harder cocks at a post-op tranny convention, and believe me I've been to a few. I honestly thought you were made of a somewhat sterner alloy than this.

Weak. I'm kinda half amused, and also half dismayed.