#learning to queue

I wake up each morning surprised to find no marks

And still feeling the ghost of your hands wrapped around my wrists

Every note you’ve taken used against me

I swear I can feel your lips at the pulse point on my throat

Your mark at every sensitive spot on my body

I wake up sure your curiosity has been sated but I’ve been left wanting

Chasing after your touch and your praise

It showed up after our first night,

It has two beautiful panels of frosted glass with ornate golden detailing

At the very top where it curves there’s your name carved out in between intricate and elegant patterns

The door sings to me

Beacons me inside with promises but it refuses to let me in when I try

Sometimes your voice shifts, or you purposefully slip a hint

And knowledge gathers just behind the door ready to meet me

But the door is as solid as it is beautiful and it’s frosted windows distort and disorient

So I’m left curious, peeking in at all hours of the day.

My only solace the name carved atop.

A mantra that soothes my curiosity for I know you’ll take me through once again and when you do I’ll have the knowledge I seek.

For as long as you choose to let me have it.

There is a door in my mind, it is mahogany and it sings to me.

I laid awake in the night, grinning a coyote grin at the ceiling.

Dr Glass rolled over, politely explained that my grin was so loud he could hear it, and demanded an explanation. 

I explained the Bedtime Paradox: "If Pinocchio says 'this next statement will cause my nose to grow two inches,' then what happens to his nose?"

Dr Glass sighed wearily, scraped himself together into a slightly more conscious state, and produced a preliminary lecture outline on the perennially interesting topic of "precision vs accuracy," but I cut him off. 

"Nope! It's better than that. The question is: does Pinocchio's nose know what he knows?" I illustrated this with my "DID YOU GET THE PUN DID YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE" face, which is even more horrifying in the dark.

"Basically," I lectured, "If we're being utterly logical and sticking to the confines of the story, Pinocchio's nose should only grow if he explicitly contradicts external evidence that he knows to be true, for the purposes of deceit. Unfortunately, there's a lot that Pinocchio just doesn't know, and he probably has lots of beliefs that aren't based on evidence. In any case, the paradox isn't particularly airtight; presumably Pinocchio already has allowances for rhetoric, sarcasm, anxiety, accurate description of feelings, etc. 

"If Pinocchio's nose only knows what Pinocchio knows, then all that matters is that Pinocchio believes or doesn't believe in what he's saying, and it all comes down to questions of knowledge, intent and tone. If this is how we're playing it, Pinocchio wouldn't be able to get answers to questions like "Do I love her?" by making yes/no statements (I love her / I don't love her) and watching his nose, because he doesn't actually know, and neither does his nose. By making a claim about what his nose will do, he's practicing levels upon levels of self-deceit, so who knows what his nose thinks of that?" "However," I went on gloatingly, "The paradox WOULD be truly mindblowing if Pinocchio's nose knows what Pinocchio does NOT know."

"Oh god," said Dr Glass.

"If Pinocchio's nose knows what Pinocchio himself doesn't know, then his all-knowing nose grows when Pinocchio contradicts any absolute truth. This would truly be a paradox - and it would be invaluable. He would be our only accurate lie detector. One could distill one's research into a yes/no question, then ask Pinocchio if it was true - even if he didn't have the faintest idea about particle physics or nanodiamonds, he'd be able to confirm or deny your findings. Put the question to him properly and he can detect criminals, predict natural disasters, and pick the best politician for the job."

"Sure, honey, fine."

I shall now attempt TO QUEUE! Either this message shall be lost to the nethernet, or I shall see it again in due course... ...or right away, if I so fuck up.

(Also, I'm doing this in Japanese.)

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