USA tends to dominate world headlines. No matter what else is going on in the world, ultimately, something happening in the US takes as much space as the biggest thing ever in that moment, if not centrestage. For that reason, a lot of people outside of the US know what’s going on in the US if they have a slight interest in the news. Some of us tend to know more than people in the US. Knowing this, however, doesn’t mean providing, or shaping discourse on whatever is going on there.
I have found myself wanting to respond to a USAmerican for their views on what is going on in their country that makes worldwide headlines, but I don’t. I take it as, I wouldn’t want anyone speaking on anything going on in my country when they know next to nothing about it.
However, there’s little comparison between my country and the USA. I would know more about what is going on in Ferguson than any USAmerican with internet connection would know about Mpeketoni. So maybe I would have acceptable comments to give on certain situations. I don’t, though.
Keanu Reeves counts, right? Even if we’ve never met.
He’s an amazing guy.
I forgot about the questionnaire. My bad. The second que? is about first kiss. I have talked about my first physical kiss before; and I assume that’s what the questionnaire maker was alluding to with the question. So this will be brief. Unless I talk about a very vivid kiss.
First kiss. I instigated it. I’d wanted to kiss this guy for a long time, and I dared myself to it. I was overwhelmed by expectations, I swear, I felt smothered by nervousness. I tried to calm myself down but I wasn’t practising apathy back then, so it was for naught.
It was at a club. As I was leaving, I pulled him with me, told him I had to do something, freaked out a lot by pressing my hands against my face, and keening a lot. Then I threw my arms around him and messily kissed him hard.
I’m getting vivid flashbacks with denial. It’s very hard to deal with.
After the first mess of a kiss, I hid my face in his neck, practically squeezed him out of breath, then he nudged me and told me to try it again, which I did; and slowed it down a smidge; and it wasn’t so bad that second time around. Then, on my way home, I came to the conclusion that the kisses weren’t anywhere as good as the expectations I’d had.
Took me a while longer to realise I’m an idealist. Reality when it comes to romance and sexual interaction does nothing for me. Nothing close to what imagination does.