Oh, imaginary pillow-girlfriend, how I love you so.

The above statement could easily stand alone. I wouldn’t bother explaining the simple rhetoric that goes into saying something embarrassingly human. But I’m bored and curious, so I’m going to explain my thought process. By writing this and then sharing it with others, I’m first making the assumption that to a an extent everyone loves shameless truth. When you see or read pitiful admissions to things like that I pretend my pillow is a girl friend because I get lonely in spite of having friends, you might laugh to yourself a little and say “hey, everyone is human and that is comforting” which I suppose is the point of sharing it. But I hesitated for a moment before writing it down. Why? Because I considered how someone, especially someone like me, might respond to this. What if they see right through the rhetoric? What if they say to themselves “Look at this asshole, trying to pull off the shameless but human approach to writing! Look at how he shares his bullshit, and for what? For attention, because getting attention is the only means of human interaction he could ever learn to master with all his contrived wisdom.
         So, you see that I hesitate because I don’t know if my language is enough to deceive you into relating to me. But wait! What if my initial assumption, that the audience (you) can relate to my frivolous problems is false? What if I’m the only asshole in town with a pillow-girlfriend and his virginity to show for it? The tragedy here, just to clarify, isn’t the virginity, it is the loneliness. And I’m sure there will be those who wonder if I’m being serious: Does he really hold a pillow close to him at night? Do tears really stain it? Does he whisper dirty things to the pillow? No, if it’s Alejandro he will whisper something beautiful to the pillow. Yeah, he will definitely describe some sort of beautiful landscape to the pillow. Maybe then he’ll describe how they don’t have to be alone anymore. Oh, imaginary pillow-girlfriend, how I love you so. But it isn’t real, you say? Do not fear or pout, my love, we shall have each other in the end, our sun shall rise, our flowers that have turned away from the clouds so sadly…will one day blossom!   –But is he pretending the pillow is a girl who actually exists, or has the pillow in itself become an object that he loves? Which of the possibilities is creepier? A young man with a fetish for pillows, or a young man pretending a young women is a pillow because he can’t overcome shyness? Oh this is good: For all of you female readers: Is Alejandro pretending you are a pillow that he whispers poetry to as he cries himself to sleep? Well, shit. Surely, I cannot be serious.
       
              Dead serious.

What are the implications of having these thoughts, and what are the implications of sharing them? Do I have faith in my audience’s efficacy for empathy? Do I believe my audience is demented? What if I seek to incite a negative response? And what about my diction? Is there really a point in saying “seek to incite a negative response”? I could easily just say “What if I want to upset people?” What I’ve realized is that I am constantly trying to reach a higher level of sincerity, but the over analysis of my own thoughts undermines my ability to be sincere in most situations. Rather than acting naturally, I’ve turned interaction into a plot device where I must over come fear in order to succeed as a protagonist. I’ve become fearful of people. People will judge and I will cower. Friends may offer brief smiles and fleeting judgments, but pillow girlfriend is forever.