Looking for Sign

               I think it was last week that a conversation on Twitter caught my attention.  I have no idea where this dialog started as I did not bother to track it down.  One person’s kink offending another person’s bugaboos goes on far too much these days.  There are just too many people and fetishes have been around at least as long as I hit puberty.  From what I have seen in literature and film, a whole bunch longer than that.

                Licking people’s assholes seemed to gross people out, which would not have even been a blip on the insanity swirling around in the world if not for the poop-sign and watching the granddaughter going through toilet training.  This week my daughter showed me the poop-sign.

               When you are in the woods, it is wise to pay attention.  Paw prints and broken branches only get you so much information.  Fetishists have something to do with imprinting points in development, and unless you were there, you just will not get it.  There is a reason that intimacy is so hard.  Secrets are not easily shared when you know that your kinks will cause revulsion, maybe even your death and humiliation.  That is one thing really weird about social media.  Too much sharing of the deeper, darker secrets of humanity.

                That is why it is best to know what poop looks like on the trail.  Is if fresh and is there something that will eat you in the vacinity.

About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

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