Still going on about the prime minister of Italy; thinking of leaving a broom closet a couple minutes before her—and I think she was even heavier then than she is in real life—unless, well, I haven’t seen her in a while; I don’t even really know what she looks like: maybe she’s been having two pastries instead of one, etc.  Or maybe that’s how I had to imagine things to feel good enough to do the deed.  But if that was the case, why wasn’t i attracted to other heavy women?  It was all about the power, wasn’t it?  So sue me.  See what you get out of me; I couldn’t help it, and, frankly, there was nothing wrong with it.  I just liked to mix things up—to mix becoming the president with fucking the president, etc.  Now i could  practically hear Ursula’s skepticism:  He’s just like all the rest, she at least seemed to be thinking.  But really I’m not; I’m kind of unique.  You’re not going to find somebody like me very often—somebody that will overlook the money, the fame . . . and the fat, in order to access the 5th dimension.

    Well, I was just flying off the rails . . . dreaming of tanning the prime minister of Italy’s tail.  What did that mean with respect to my relationship with Ursula?  Should I tell her this?  Why would I do that?  Why wouldn’t I do that?  That just might be all the excuse Ursula needed to dismiss me, and treat me like shit.  Well, maybe she wouldn’t treat me like shit—she’s not a bad person, so why would she?  What would she get out of it?  What else was going on?  Were we going to get term limits for members of the supreme court, given the racist bullshit we were now experiencing?  And what else?  Well, I don’t necessarily think that the prime minister of Italy is a good person—I can only assume, given my history, that she might not be.  Perhaps all i could do is piss her off when I refused to think of nothing but her. 

     Going good, like gravy, Kemosabe:  quiet down, now, we know you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread.  there’s always something wrong with somebody—isn’t there?  Does that have something to do with an antipathy for women?  Misogyny?  Homosexuality?  Well we could rule out the antipathy for women, because, as it happens, i like women, and, in general, women like me—maybe not in a sexual way—but from afar, if things were different, etc.  We could rule out misogyny, at least mostly, because I didn’t hate women, and i didn’t feel the need to assert myself by sleeping with as many women as possible—if I was truly a misogynist, I’d be doing whatever it takes to find a woman and put her down, or, at the very least, I’d be making women look bad, constantly, when I make my creations.  Finally, we could rule out homosexuality because I’m queer, not gay—I like women, and I want to be with them.  I just wanted them to be young enough to have a baby.

    Here she is, in my brain, eating away at me—making me into something greater than myself . . . in a way we were merging together: so i had to stop thinking of us in terms of man and woman.  What if Anna is simply part me in the afterlife?  What if this progression toward Ursula was really about the unification of Anna and me in the life to come?  That I, in the life to come, am a combination—just like I am a combination of something from the past and something from the future?  Would this be any less exciting?  Well, if I could cheat death by doing this—if I could reap the rewards of this merger in this life, then no, it wouldn’t be any less exciting.  But in reality I wanted to be in a sexual relationship with a partner, such as Anna or whoever my Ursula, in this life, turns out to be.  So yeah, it was great that i was changing the world one keystroke at a time—and advancing humanity toward a kind of heaven on earth—but, no, it wasn’t necessarily all that, because, well, the altitude here keeps me pretty busy—and lonesome.