Saturday, August 22, 2009

dirty tick

I used to pine for love in such a structurally visceral way that every inch of my body ached for it. A slice of the devil courting me into a lustful affair of no inhibitions. My eyes full of wet tears, and wonder. These things were so wonderfully innocent, broken in parts of nonsense and yet my heart seemed to adjust to the rhythm like nothing else. I miss these days of innocent record, the way my heart reacted to a simple word or a sound - my pulse vibrating in my wrist. I enjoyed the mimic of pain and hunger Jae reminded me of, the discord of emotions that strung wildly inside of me. Strange how one becomes addicted to the actual act of being in love even if it is not the same love. Our minds can play the tricks on us so that we cannot see it as anything but. I should copy my heart and post it to both their chests and attach a cord to each side, and wrap it around their pristine waists.

I am destructive today, tonight - the weather marking an deep dark hole scathing itself in my heart. I laugh crazily so when I see that a garbage can is on fire, smoke spewing forth slowly but surely - yes so surely that the woman in front of me stops to a halt to stare. I cannot bother to look too long. There is enough fire in my heart to sustain me forever right now - forever is now. My heels are like the sound of a drums when stroked with sticks, and I bundle my anger into tight red fists, my fingernails painted that metallic blue that now reminds me of her apology - her desire to be right - to be okay. I wish I did not hate her so much, for it would show me that I never cared at all. It is apathy I wish for, the bright stem of apathy - no feelings at all of discomfort just a bright shiny glow of oddity. I could punch her in the face, but I suppose this might satisfy her - another acknowledgement that I cared enough to be angry.

Tomorrow I shall ignore her, ignore her until she becomes a ghost to me. Isn’t this what she has done to me? Reminded me of my other ghost who does not speak to me. How can I have fallen for two women so similar? Shouldn’t I have run in the polar opposite direction? I suppose had I not missed what Christi represented to me I would not have let myself get to deep in this sea in the first place. This sea, this sea of ugliness. It is a shame really since all that could have succeeded even briefly in beauty is restored to ashes. I can’t stand her last words, but they are what she wanted to leave on and they are not too different from Christi’s. I make jokes of her projection but I’d lie if I said I wasn’t shocked. I was disgusted when she began to grip me with words that held no meaning. I hope I will never write of her again but I enjoyed the desperation she made me feel because it reminded me of love. It reminded me of Christi who it is obvious I still pine for. I walk the streets with her memory. I am her memory.

It is not her I wish to erase though, it is this - this (Jae) I’d flick a match to (not literally of course). It isn’t wasted time I suppose because that would be downing my emotions, feelings - thoughts but I am still angry I let it continue this long. Long enough for me to realize my true feelings, and then to watch them wash away in some abandoned box in the sea. If only she knew what she had gotten rid of it in her deliberate selfishness I wonder if she’d been so blind and stupid. Probably for women often desire, or think they desire women like me but do not know what to do with me when I come barreling into their worlds. I make them assess, change. I never thought of these things as bad but I suppose this is why I spend so much of my time alone, and in love for if the people I loved so much could actually sustain me for all the time I have loved them it is possible they would have left sooner

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