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CHAPTER 4:
SENSUAL IN-BETWEEN ENTROPIES
Since the early teens, I’ve been beguiled by girls and women that have what
might be regarded as exquisite sensibility, perhaps more precisely, exquisite self
sensibility. These inhabitants of the near transformational neighborhoods of
bifurcation sets, are grandly responsive receivers of emotionally significant
information arising from their insides and the world. They are the canaries in the
deep mines of human experience. Not the usual one lively-eye, one sober-eye,
binocular difference of most of us, both their eyes sparkle, their feeling antennae
await a happening and each is regarded as new. | spot these brains in a crowd
within minutes and am compulsively drawn to know them better, to become part of
them, to vicariously experience and serve them. They seem to have little inhibitory
control of even weak sensory information on its way to their strong, global feelings.
Near ecstasy and excruciating pain await. They feel their anticipations with their
body, down to their painted toes. Their receptivity brings me lower abdominal
warmth in remembrance.
At sixteen in my Dad-purchased second hand Ford convertible, | was parked
with my new girl friend on Sarasota’s Lido Beach, hearing and seeing dark shadows
of the Gulf of Mexico’s waves hit white sand against the night sky. | took her flat
party shoes off to message her feet. When | kissed her left foot and sucked gently
on her toes, she gasped and became faint. She told me that a strong electric shock
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