From: crystal@glia.biostr.washington.edu (Crystal)
Subject: Re: Seek swf without the following problems
Organization: University of Washington
Date: Sat, 29 Aug 1992 20:22:35 GMT

Ok...Imago (subconscious template) of my "dream man" and most of my close
friends: *sigh*   (Please do NOT send me email answering this "ad" - Thanx)

Highly intelligent (my father image)
Very busy - no time for me
Inconsistent affection (insatiable, then aloof)
Fault finding/Critical/Judgemental
Physically/emotionally abusive
Alcohol drinker (not necessarily alcoholic, but it helps...:<)
Desires to control me
Stifles all my attempts to grow and be me
Assumes I can read their mind
Extremely private
Uncommunicative

If you fit this list, you're PERFECT for me!
*sigh*
And, no this isn't a joke...this is the kind of person I will invariably fall
in love with - but knowing this helps me cope with the problems, and the
person I find must also be willing to understand the mechanism behind the 
Imago template.  (Fortunately I have found someone who understands it all,
and who is quite "healthy" even though he carries nearly all these traits
at (*fortunately*) a minor degree.
 
And since I am on the subject, I'd like to share a poem that I wrote that
is composite of all the men in my life.  Be forewarned, you may identify
heavily with this poem, it touches some pretty scary personal emotions in
a lot of folks, especially those still in denial of any personal problems.


The Entertainer

See the juggler upon the stage
His liveliness belies his rage.
An inner fear of others close
Leads to banter quite verbose.

In monotone he delivers his pitch
His poker face shows not a twitch.
The jokes he tells with eyes a-glistening
Are just to see if you are listening.

Craving attention he sweeps into the light;
But if it's bestowed, he'll hide his fright.
He need not fear from any rejection,
His rings and clubs are his protection.

As props are flying in colors loud,
The juggler does not see the crowd.
His mind is focused on his patter;
The eyes on him, they do not matter.

He knows they're there, that's all he needs;
He loves them all, but inside he bleeds...
He can only reach out as far as his toys,
But his heart cries out for closer joys.

Center of affection he wishes to be
But won't return it, as you will see.
A vulnerable soul if one-on-one
Off-stage he panics - it's "safe" to run.

Admire him there up on his throne
But don't ever try to get him alone.
The pursuer is happy until pursued -
Don't let your interest be misconstrued.

For to love the juggler is to hurt -
You'll feed him sweets, he'll feed you dirt.
He'll take your love and then reserve it,
Telling himself he doesn't deserve it.

Repelled and attracted at the same time
His magnetic charm reigns sublime.
He wants so much to be close to you
But scared to death if you want him, too.

'Round and 'round, this pattern goes
Under his knee, up off his toes;
His illusive maneuvers are loved by all
But God forbid should he drop a ball.

A fear of success and of failure, too
The juggler knows these both are true.
An egotist in the midst of his world,
But a frightened child within is curled.

You want to cuddle and protect him;
He is wary that you'll reject him.
Balls and clubs and rings come back;
He tosses them off with little flack.

In time he tucks his toys away
To perform again another day
To a crowd that never stays the same
Who know nothing of him except his name.

2-18-92
Crystal

A composite of many, but in particular of the person who taught me to juggle.

It is also a composite of the type of person I tend to attract and be attracted
to. Quite depressing. But at least I know this and can learn to deal with it.

Discarded lines that may go into another poem:

Look into his saddened puppy dog eyes
You'll see his mind is filled with lies
Lies to himself, but not to others
Lies to his family; his own brothers.

And just when you think it's safe to relax
He'll come at you with a sharpened ax.