Spent the day with Creamsaver yesterday. We sat around and I finally saw The Bourne Identity. It was a good movie; filled with action, drama, suspense. I just couldn't seem to get as into it as I know I would have been because I've had a wicked headache for the past 4 days. It just won't go away...
After we saw that we went down to some stores to buy me some new bedding. It's getting hot as fuck and i seriously needed some shets to sleep in.
So we went out and bought these:
FUCKING RAD!!
And anyone that knows me shouldn't be surprised by them.
So we picked those up and also bought our first *together* item. You know, the first thing you buy so you can both use it.
What was it you ask?
MARIO KART: DOUBLE DASH!!!!
I love my girl...
**********
8:47 PM
I've spent all day trapped inside my fucking house. I'm about ready to kill someone. I've been rebuilding a computer for my (ungrateful) cousin and all I want is to go out and get drunk. AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!
**********
10:05 pm
I sat at my desk staring at my lit cigarette, wanting desperately to smoke it (even though I can't stand them). I lifted it high to examine it; see it for what it really was... my death. I brought to my lips and let it sit for awhile between them. It felt heavy on my lower lip as I pursed it gently to hold it steady. I brushed my tongue across the back of it, slowly and gently licking the filter to savor the chemicals that resided within.
The lighter stood at the ready. As if it knew exactly what it's purpose was. As if it had a mind and a soul of it's own. With a flick of the flint the fire was born. A slow drag later and I was ablaze with glory.
I took three quick and hard drags from this particular cigarette ( it was the same one I was smoking last night while she laid in my bed ). I thought about her for a second while the smoke rushed though my lungs and filled my very essence. I wondered why I put myself through this torment. I wondered why I allowed myself to slowly destroy myself. I know my body is diseased and yet I continue to do it...
I closed my eyes, took another hit, and thought about her again...
She was with me last night. Well, she's always with me really. She was in my bed, and I could feel the warmth of her skin next to mine. We committed vile and disgusting acts together, but that was not the focus now. No... my focus was afterward. We lay in bed then. Together. Her in my arms, and my soul adrift in the sheer happiness of it all. I was sane then; I was centered. I allowed myself a moment of peace while we were together there, and I slept.
I dreamt I was in her arms and she was my wife. I dreamt that we could be together and that our souls were connected. I dreamt of laughter and silence, giggles and screams, life... and my death. It's always the same dream. Funny how it mirrors reality.
I awoke a few minutes later and noticed I was the only one awake. I held her tighter, knowing full well she had to leave.
"It's getting late, I should take you home soon."
"I know."
So quiet, so quick. The response still pains my heart.
*
The ceiling is dark now. It's always dark when I'm alone. And I know where ever she is her ceiling isn't. She lives in the sun while I live in a self-imposed exile from it. She enjoys her life... while I slowly kill myself.
I close my eyes again, but it's not sweet dreams I see before me anymore. I see her, laughing and cavorting with others. I see the misconstrued faces of the shadows around her, leaching the sun out of her... waiting for their chance to strike. I know them because I was them. They lay in wait for her to allow a moment a comfort to settle in. Then, when she is unguarded, they will move against her.
She giggles for them in my waking dream. She smiles and speaks her sugary language. They know what to say and when to say it. She asked for more comfort, and more acceptance. She drinks from the sun that isn't and all the while they wait.
The night has progressed now and she is far from herself. They do their dance now, and it is one I was never good at. She has been singled out by one of the shadows, his face hidden in the false sun's rays. They dance into the night, and he brings her into the shadows. She falls, allows herself to be stripped of her shell, and performs vile and disgusting things with the nameless faceless shadow.
*
And all the while I sit here; alone, cold, tears running from my face. I know these dreams are only that and nothing else. But I also know the dance is hard to resist ... and I am not good at it.
After we saw that we went down to some stores to buy me some new bedding. It's getting hot as fuck and i seriously needed some shets to sleep in.
So we went out and bought these:
FUCKING RAD!!
And anyone that knows me shouldn't be surprised by them.
So we picked those up and also bought our first *together* item. You know, the first thing you buy so you can both use it.
What was it you ask?
MARIO KART: DOUBLE DASH!!!!
I love my girl...
**********
8:47 PM
I've spent all day trapped inside my fucking house. I'm about ready to kill someone. I've been rebuilding a computer for my (ungrateful) cousin and all I want is to go out and get drunk. AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!
**********
10:05 pm
I sat at my desk staring at my lit cigarette, wanting desperately to smoke it (even though I can't stand them). I lifted it high to examine it; see it for what it really was... my death. I brought to my lips and let it sit for awhile between them. It felt heavy on my lower lip as I pursed it gently to hold it steady. I brushed my tongue across the back of it, slowly and gently licking the filter to savor the chemicals that resided within.
The lighter stood at the ready. As if it knew exactly what it's purpose was. As if it had a mind and a soul of it's own. With a flick of the flint the fire was born. A slow drag later and I was ablaze with glory.
I took three quick and hard drags from this particular cigarette ( it was the same one I was smoking last night while she laid in my bed ). I thought about her for a second while the smoke rushed though my lungs and filled my very essence. I wondered why I put myself through this torment. I wondered why I allowed myself to slowly destroy myself. I know my body is diseased and yet I continue to do it...
I closed my eyes, took another hit, and thought about her again...
She was with me last night. Well, she's always with me really. She was in my bed, and I could feel the warmth of her skin next to mine. We committed vile and disgusting acts together, but that was not the focus now. No... my focus was afterward. We lay in bed then. Together. Her in my arms, and my soul adrift in the sheer happiness of it all. I was sane then; I was centered. I allowed myself a moment of peace while we were together there, and I slept.
I dreamt I was in her arms and she was my wife. I dreamt that we could be together and that our souls were connected. I dreamt of laughter and silence, giggles and screams, life... and my death. It's always the same dream. Funny how it mirrors reality.
I awoke a few minutes later and noticed I was the only one awake. I held her tighter, knowing full well she had to leave.
"It's getting late, I should take you home soon."
"I know."
So quiet, so quick. The response still pains my heart.
*
The ceiling is dark now. It's always dark when I'm alone. And I know where ever she is her ceiling isn't. She lives in the sun while I live in a self-imposed exile from it. She enjoys her life... while I slowly kill myself.
I close my eyes again, but it's not sweet dreams I see before me anymore. I see her, laughing and cavorting with others. I see the misconstrued faces of the shadows around her, leaching the sun out of her... waiting for their chance to strike. I know them because I was them. They lay in wait for her to allow a moment a comfort to settle in. Then, when she is unguarded, they will move against her.
She giggles for them in my waking dream. She smiles and speaks her sugary language. They know what to say and when to say it. She asked for more comfort, and more acceptance. She drinks from the sun that isn't and all the while they wait.
The night has progressed now and she is far from herself. They do their dance now, and it is one I was never good at. She has been singled out by one of the shadows, his face hidden in the false sun's rays. They dance into the night, and he brings her into the shadows. She falls, allows herself to be stripped of her shell, and performs vile and disgusting things with the nameless faceless shadow.
*
And all the while I sit here; alone, cold, tears running from my face. I know these dreams are only that and nothing else. But I also know the dance is hard to resist ... and I am not good at it.
VIEW 15 of 15 COMMENTS
Planning in motion for Swap Meet on Sunday.
I need all the essentials (razors, Jem dolls to carry in my pocket, and a wall phone like the one I should have just fucking bought last time.)
Wanna go?
Say, around 7 am?
postscript: Jem is truly outrageous. Truly, truly, truly outrageous. And yes, we are the Misfits. And yes, we are comin' to getcha.
Hearts and flowers and disemboweled kittens to you, Sir.
And I already know what you will counter with.
11 is too late in the day.
Shall we compromise and say 7:30??