Monday 23 February 2015

Manizer (fictional)

Manizer is, of course, the accepted term for the female version of womanizer. Yes? No. Obviously, having 'manizer' as part of everyday vocabulary would give too much moral elevation to the concept. Instead, the accepted iniquity and malignancy of a woman slutting from man to man is encapsulated in terms such as harlot, floozy, strumpet - all of which are kinda cute words, despite the massive double standard they embody (emwordy?).

But I digress.

I think I may be a manizer. At least of imaginary men. A fictional manizer. I just can't settle on one (made up) man. I usually last a few months in love (lust) with one of my figments of my imagination, but then another one forms in my mind and I forget all about the previous one. It's like I have ADHD of the invented love (lust).

I worry about the trail of imaginary broken hearts left in my wake. I struggle with the notion that I've transformed into some kind of Dr Frankenstein of the mind, creating thought-lovers to satisfy my own nefarious desires, then tossing them aside when I've finished with them, leaving them to roam - alone and untethered, innocent and childlike - in the brain fiction realm. It's terribly immoral, but as I'm evil - being a woman and all - it's inherent in my nature to do naughty things. So don't ask me to stop, because I can't (won't).

Unfortunately though, brain creating is potentially quite dangerous, given that, under the right circumstances, brain creations have been known to take corporeal form. It's possible one of my creations may become flesh, hunt me down and seek vengeance upon me for my transgressions. Though, it's also possible one of my creations may become flesh, hunt me down and seek to explore new transgressions with me. Or previous transgressions. Or both previous and new transgressions. Or no transgressions, and instead we'll have a cup of tea and a chat. Maybe some cake. (All my brain creations like cake).