Ode to Pseudonymphomania
A plethora of pseudonyms can serve a woman well…
(Do you think the apple man was really William Tell?)
Indeed, a breezy morn and not one lover round the place,
a woman might a name or two decide she should embrace…
So many meanings – dare I say, so little time to muse –
will all my many selves at play bring pleasure or confuse?
Pseudo – it’s a word for fake, “nym” replaces name;
Am I not the woman of all faces just the same?
Nymph remains a nubile thing, open, and a sprite –
Cast in myth and dreamy lore, every man’s delight.
Mania is something else; passion fires its roots –
intense, extreme, obsessive drive, in all of its pursuits…
Put the words together then – what meaning do you see?
Many names to fake you out? Simulated glee?
Enthusiastically I say, admitting to my place,
Pseudonymphomaniac, I will claim with grace!
Pseudonymphomania – so what is it, really?
What a glorious and wondrous web we weave – and the Internet is indeed the web in which we roll and rumble, recreate ourselves, clothed in anonymity, pseudo anonymity, or alternate paths to exploration, indignation, and sexual instigation!
Sticky, glistening, irresistible – our web wanderings allow us to try on new selves for size, usually in relative safety – and to voice opinions in the millions (billions?) of messages in a bottle, potentially fished from a global sea.
Prepping public personas for pan-planetary consumption? Why not pseudonymphomania? It’s a well-oiled principle, the nom de plume, the freedom to speak and play, certainly encouraged by internet dating sites – this simulated, incognito, quasi-fictitious space where we retain an essence of self and don our trappings of marketing as needed, and privacy – in profiles, stories, opinionated oratory.
Ms. Big, by any other name would smell as sweet?
As for nymph-like inclinations and nymphomania – might this be our millennial last breath at imagining ourselves as free, sexual beings? (And by the way, who gets to determine what comprises “excessive sexual desire” in a woman, should you care to ponder the definition of nymphomania? Are we back to the discussion of the “P” word? Or is it just PseudoPromiscuity?)
And is our sexual desire simulated? Or simply draped in a dash of incognito for additional license and licentiousness?
Overlapping limbs, tongues, meanings
Ah… give me my overlapping tongues that lick the sweet significance of words into a stimulating, savory and unsavory frenzy! Give me limbs intertwined in morning waking! And words created of a daily-nightly nom de plume, nubile necessity, and a mania for a passionate obsession-to-pursue-pleasure… or better yet, to be pursued, pleasurably!
Oh, a sweet, sticky, verbal, sexual, sensory mess, I must say… and I’m all for it! (And so am I, and so am I, and so are we…) And how about you? And you? And you?
- Modest moms by day, seductresses by night?
- Cashiers and kindergarten teachers through the morning hours, and abstract painters into the evening?
- Professors in the twilight, and poets by the light of the moon?
Aren’t we all pseudo-something, simulating selves and using that to become more than we would be otherwise? Is pseudonymphomania a revelation, a reality, a recognition of the ability to feign and regain sexual diversity through the use of pseudonyms, or is it a passionate and intense posture used to reinvent oneself under separate noms de plume?
What pseudonymphomaniac are you, or do you seek?
Would you like the freedom to relax and truly speak?
Would a simulated name induce you to be more?
And if so, then could we know, what might we have in store?