Violence & Birdsong

I don't know what anxiety is to other people
but I am told it's not ever exactly the same
for anyone of us
but I know what anxiety is to me
and it's so many different things
it's not only the feeling of constant exhaustion
or feeling incapable of getting out of bed
it's not only not going to the gym because
I do not want anyone to look at me
or crying myself to sleep
no
anxiety is also
getting out of bed
deciding I am going to have a good day
and then going for a long walk
and feeling ok with the world
but then as I turn a corner
I realize, shit, I have an ex that works near here
and I hope I don't bump into her
because I don't want her to see how much I let myself go
how fat I am
how I now have a hobo beard
how broken my voice sounds
and though we never loved each other
we liked each other just fine
and we had great sex
and how we ate sushi and drank wine
and as I think all this
of course I bump into her
and she's visibly fazed
she never saw me like this
but recognition is semi instant
and we stand there for like half a second
not knowing what to do
not knowing what to say
and I break the ice
and say Hi Izzy
and she says hi
and we kiss each other on the cheek
how are you, I ask, saying that she is looking good
(and she is)
and she smiles, and says things are good,
and she says I look good too
(which is a lie)
and I smile, and say things are the same as they always are
and then an awkward silence
filled with so many memories
and I tell her I really have to go
that it was good seeing her
and I tell her that it is good to know she is happy
we say goodbye
and I make a mental note never to go that way again
because that is also what anxiety is to me.

Jeff Goldblum's dick

What a strange title for a post, right? And all this based on a probably very personal Mandela effect I experienced when I first saw the movie. Now, the movie premiered in the US in August 1986, so that meant that either the movie premiered here later in the year or maybe even in 1987, so I'd have been either 9 or 10 years old when I saw it first. It terrified me, and though back then I loved horror movies, mainly of the slasher variety, nothing could've prepared for the kind of horror I saw here. I don't think I'd ever seen a movie whose horror element so deeply focused on the body mutations as much as this one did, so for years afterwards it lingered in my memory, and though by the time the sequel got released I was far less impressionable, a couple of things remained with me, one of them being very vivid memories of some of the mutations Jeff Goldblum's character went through - including the bit where his teeth start falling off - and the other being a very detailed image of his naked physique, especially of his genitalia.

I can picture him still, lean and built, very well defined and contoured, a hairless, smooth body, and his dick - well, I guess it wasn't that different from many others - but... in my mind, not only was his body somewhat grey-ish, but especially I have this recollection of his junk being grey hued too. 

And this, as a kid, made me feel quite disgusted, and I developed a distaste for Jeff Goldblum, so much so that I wouldn't be able to appreciate any movie he was in for years after. 

Well, there's the thing right there, about, erm, his thing : at no time since then, in all the times I've rewatched this movie, can you actually see his dick. And as far as I can look up online, NO ONE EVER has seen it in this context, and the closest there is to this is a bit in the movie where Brundlefly (the gestalt creature comprised by both the titular fly and main character Seth Brundle, played by Jeff Goldblum) decides that, having transcended humanity, he has no need for some dangly bits, and he removes them? and keeps them in a jar in the toilet? Something like that. 

As someone who's very much a not a dick fan, I'd rather not have this (probably) imaginary image in my mind, but I'm guessing it'll be there for as long as I live.