~ An excerpt from a novel not yet written ~
In rather short order Joseph found the frenetic nature of his lovers mind something between disingenuous and disconcerting, despite the fact he could not astutely remember the difference in the definitions. In general he thought above his own head, uncommonly so when it came to the fairer sex, where his defenses were most vulnerable and his vanity most suspect. He soaked up words from high minded literature and upscale fishwraps for fraudulent reasons. His interest was not in proper conjugation, but in elevating his abilities to turn a phrase, aesthetically speaking.
In actuality Rose was a succubus. She was A turbulent cunt the likes of which his for appearances sake only vocabulary could never define, even if his dim sensibilities with women were to allow, which was assuredly not the case. She was crass without spitting, but one could certainly imagine her doing so. She took his seed in her mouth and kept it there. While his shallow heart received this as an endorsement of his unique and special nature, it was in all reality a combination of manipulation and laziness. With a mouthful of his spunk there was no favor Rose could request that would go unfulfilled. And despite numerous repetitions with uncounted lovers she had never found a happy medium of where to redeposit the load. So she consumed it, creating two opportunistic birds with one ejaculation.
As was often the case, Joseph felt what he could not define. His insistent yet incapable linear mind unable to engage in self defense without certainty of cause, he conceded to grant his amorphous suspicions more time to evolve. He took the chicken shit way out to say it rightly, and it routinely pecked his ass bloody and ashamed.
This was precisely why he sought to elevate his vocabulary – a two fold plan to preemptively subjugate heartaches of days yet to come.
1) By ruminating in posh palaver Joseph believed he would unnerve those who wished only to manipulate and utilize him for personal gain, effectively smiting them antecedent to his potential loss. As a man is taught to act larger and more powerful than he is if confronted by a bear, he attempted through lexicon to cast a shadow puppet intelligence twice his actual size.
2) That through the same exercise of sublime word-a-day self education he would inevitably, by effort or happenstance, raise the bar as it were on his actual intellect, in turn honing his intuition.
Instead Joseph built little more than a wind up toy with more words shoved inside. He remained a simple puzzle to solve even to the most amateur of sociopaths. Their reward was bountiful, his defenses diminutive. Rinse, lather, repeat.
A wise man knows his limitations, Joseph was not a wise man. He was stupid in fact, at least in functional terms. Sure, he could orate voluptuously, but he never actually said a thing that mattered or made any fucking sense. The result was the polar opposite of his intent. He had effectively affixed an idiota con donero placard to his own forehead.
Rose saw it glowing two blocks away, and adjusted her skirt accordingly.