A dragon and a human. This is a special category because he is a fairy. The result is he is a fairy dragon. A rare creature for its blood is transparent and it can hover four meters above the ground with ease.
He installed the clown engine for me one day.
What a guy. I felt so assured I wrote a diary entry.
November. 2020.
It's getting better. Today I had chicken wings. With ranch.
My facial hair has grown out. For Movember. I look like a man.
I dance and I feel good and I keep dancing.
I remember when I learned I was an artist. I felt beautiful that day.
I have so many memories that are all like gems. All the writing I did. That's how I learned advanced English.
Advanced English.
It was merrily typing so much. About Love and not Honor. Not Honor is what we don't owe to one another. For I do not owe this to you. I give it to you because I am kind. And Kindness and Intelligence are two fierce combatants for they are giving. I have much of either. For I have learned and struggled. You always say I go too far, I go there, the place where I am over my limit but I try to push limits.
Number 5 helped me push my limits because he was so good at it and subtle.
I thrived in his presence, a mystery to myself again in a way that I found character and acted on it. Usually appearing female, I was my true old self. She grew beautifully with age and in confidence; I grew in such a way as for my female side to have loads of confidence. She knew exactly what to say to children to make them feel good or better. And the way she viewed everyone was as a mother, primarily, but raised by a father whose goodness was as much as his mother's and so he acted fatherly and motherly together this way. And with a species of five genders or more, finally my clown car left the airport with three balloons inside and two drivers making shifting remarks at one another over two steering wheels.
"Like this," said his dragon boy pixie, posing, "just us two. At once."
"I feel posed when you do because you're so beautiful."
"Aw, thanks," he said, "you're reading ufology?"
"I don't understand shoot-from-the-hip comments."
"But you got that it was that?"
"What‽"
"I'm an alien! Nevermind. What are you doing?"
"I'm watching T.v. there's Vauthrils on."
"Vauthrils. What are those again?"
"They're like . . . anti-gravity dino-turkey giants with sharp fangs and lasers."
"Okay, whatever," he slid on to the couch next to him, like an anti-gravity dino-turkey giant with sharp fangs and lasers.
"You look, divided between the Earth and the Sky. Will you not, shoot a solution to this difference. That I will try to catch up to you and learn all of your dispositions."
"I doubt you can learn all of them. But I am divided. This is one disposition. The others are unlike it because it is, to have a proper, mathematic definition, to separate or separate into parts, break up; this is a disposition among other dispositions. Like Celcius. And Degrees."
"Your temperature is it divided or undivided?"
"Undivided, I'd say. Do I have your attention?"
And he pulled him in close to give him attention. A kiss to the forehead.
He closed his eyes.
"I wanted that too," said Hakon after a moment's past. Opening his eyes, there was golden sunlight that had settled on their living room floor and in their eyes.
Neither one shivered.
As dead to the bone.
And neither one spoke.
As said through the cone.
For passing thoughts,
this one required definition.
Through-the-cone is a superiority complex, a competition.
It feels through-the-cone when they speak like they are superior, by definition.
Or their viewpoint is skewed. In their favour.
Or the hyper-real through-the-cone a metaphor for a Canadian pinecone of English enthusiasts, nuts, or seeds, and computer frays in an academic setting. Logically connected through fire, the only thing that opens a pinecone and spreads all the seeds. Fire the metaphor for creative logic. For creative is not logic, not always!
And they spoke, creative in influence to one another, like this.
Almost every day.
Until they made stories for one another and became each others' characters. Glorious or Outrageous it was said to be both. But his dragon always had the advantage. Glorious. Black. Dragon. With Purple. How could it be any more outrageous than this?
But they balanced each other, seemingly counterintuitively, and they both took notice.
It helped them develop as adults. They became powerfully dramatic with one another and acted out to family members in varying degrees of potency and clout in order to test their loyalty to the gay cause. It made them popular and they received many gifts.
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