Do you think this is funny?
Algy saw the bear
The bear saw Algy
The bear was bulgy
The bulge was Algy
It makes me giggle my head off. The Bunny Sister and I still laugh about it. It was in a silly book of poems Dad used to read us when we were little. Do you find it funny? I mean, what does it mean? Did Algy eat the bear? Is that why the bulge becomes him? Or is it in his mind? Why is it Algy at the end? We never could understand it. It makes our minds hurt. Is it because Algy is seeing the bear that it is him?
I often wonder about that. Here is a thing I think sometimes:
If I look at you, doesn’t that make me you?
When I say this to people they usually look at me blankly. I know. It’s a funny thing to say. And it is Friday.
But consider this:
So I’m very good-looking, say, stunningly so, like, say, Monica Bellucci. What pleasure do I truly get from these good looks? True, it feels good to be inside that skin, to put those lovely round breasts in a bra, to sway those hips as you walk down the street, BUT, is it really THAT that is making you feel good, or the feeling of being admired. The REFLECTION of yourself in other people’s eyes?
So, say you’re any man (or woman) walking down the street and you get to see that face or you’re Vincent Cassel and you get to squeeze those boobies every morning and look at those hips in an array of different garments, aren’t YOU the one getting the pleasure? Isn’t it in you? Aren’t you therefore Monica Bellucci? Honestly? I mean, Monica can check herself out constantly in the mirror, but it’s most likely that Vincent gets to look at her for a greater percentage of the day. And mirrors are liars anyway, so she’ll never really know. Not like he does.
So, I ask you again, isn’t she HIM? And he, her?
I look at The Love probably more than I look at anyone else, a profound treat. When I close my eyes it’s his face I see, I could name every little doorway and field and crevice and undulation and brightness of the landscape of his face. So, inside me, I see him. I don’t see my dumb old self. I don’t even know what I really look like!
And when he closes his eyes, he sees me. At least I hope.
So, doesn’t that make him me, and me him?
I reckon we’ve all been ripped off. We shouldn’t be trying to fix ourselves up and become the best-looking prototypes of ourselves, we should be SURROUNDING ourselves with beautiful objects and people and landscapes! Filling ourselves up on them. Just being vessels and not worrying so much about filling other people up with us, because we never truly ever get to know what that feeling is like. We are just telescopes! Portals! Big, vast windows from which to view the world and become it.
Because the Bulge IS Algy. He is seeing it. When he sees the bulge, for that moment he is no longer Algy, he IS the bulge. Do you agree?
I think my peabrain just exploded in my head. Oops! I have to run now and put make-up on and do my fur because I’m having my photo taken later and I need to look HOT! Oh my GOODNESS, what will I wear, who will I be…