Richard asked me the other day, why do I always write not so nice things about him. Why are my illustrations of him always about how insecure he seems to be, how jealous he can get, how unreasonable. I told him it was because he normally isnt those things, and when they creep up, they become something I cant help but think about. Because theyre not the norm. How sweet, lovely, tender, tolerant, giving I mention quite often how I think hes really good as a creative but I seldom feel the desire to heap Hallmark descriptions on him. Those are for girls with boyfriends that are normally nasty, and when theyre especially good, they say those nice thing.
Thats true.
I close my eyes and feel myself sinking into a well of tenderness, borne from feeling bitter. Not my bitterness, the bitterness of the other person. The sarcasm thinly veiling the longing for the very thing he derides, ineffectually shrouding his detestation for the way things are.
So yeah, my girlfriend and I got some cash for stripping and bondage and a bit of modelling.
Let me get this. He starts. I cant remember what he actually said, word for word, and anyway, it would mean nothing if I recited it word for word. But he said, So you did it for some cash. Girls in Singapore will do anything for a bit of cash, and I dont have that. And Im not young or model material, but that doesnt matter, as long as theres cash. And I dont really have that, or want to have that, or would want to imagine I was loved, because it will only ever be about the cash.
That was when I was 18, and I met Richard for about, the fifth or sixth time, may be. Id know about his existence for a couple of years by then, known him a little bit. He could ooze sarcasm, and it was the sort of sarcasm that was obviously disenfranchised from what he is. It was there because it had to be there, not that their meanings were consistently diametrical to what he actually was, believed and wanted. Sarcasm, when it comes to the things closest to our hearts, is often there for the sake, or in an attempt to make people believe one thing about us, when it is actually the complete opposite of what we are, what we fear, etcetera.
I realized it today while at a video screening of the cumulation of another classs System projects. One girl went around and asking people what they felt about their bodies, and she asked this one professor, whom I feel rather endearingly towards, what he thought was the best way to diet.
Laughing, he said, Eat nothing.
Then after, she asked if there was anything about his body he would like to improve. I didnt hear the first bit, but laughing, he also said, I want to die.
And I dont presume he really meant that, not even in the least. But there was something in the way he said it that made me feel it wasnt entirely untrue. But of course it cant be untrue.
I would say the same thing if someone asked me that question, but I can only say it because I understand how its like to feel unsatisfied with my own body, and wanting to die is only that sensation pushed to its extreme. And its a shit feeling.
And insecurity in other people makes me love them, as long as they dont hide in under cockiness. There is sarcasm that feeds of stereotyped ideas of people, Of course shell get an A, shes both a bimbo and a slut and sarcasm that draws itself from personal experience. That admits to a persons fears. And I think that sort of sarcasm was never actually meant to hide anything, I dont think people hide it very well from me anyway. But I could be very, very wrong.
Thats true.
I close my eyes and feel myself sinking into a well of tenderness, borne from feeling bitter. Not my bitterness, the bitterness of the other person. The sarcasm thinly veiling the longing for the very thing he derides, ineffectually shrouding his detestation for the way things are.
So yeah, my girlfriend and I got some cash for stripping and bondage and a bit of modelling.
Let me get this. He starts. I cant remember what he actually said, word for word, and anyway, it would mean nothing if I recited it word for word. But he said, So you did it for some cash. Girls in Singapore will do anything for a bit of cash, and I dont have that. And Im not young or model material, but that doesnt matter, as long as theres cash. And I dont really have that, or want to have that, or would want to imagine I was loved, because it will only ever be about the cash.
That was when I was 18, and I met Richard for about, the fifth or sixth time, may be. Id know about his existence for a couple of years by then, known him a little bit. He could ooze sarcasm, and it was the sort of sarcasm that was obviously disenfranchised from what he is. It was there because it had to be there, not that their meanings were consistently diametrical to what he actually was, believed and wanted. Sarcasm, when it comes to the things closest to our hearts, is often there for the sake, or in an attempt to make people believe one thing about us, when it is actually the complete opposite of what we are, what we fear, etcetera.
I realized it today while at a video screening of the cumulation of another classs System projects. One girl went around and asking people what they felt about their bodies, and she asked this one professor, whom I feel rather endearingly towards, what he thought was the best way to diet.
Laughing, he said, Eat nothing.
Then after, she asked if there was anything about his body he would like to improve. I didnt hear the first bit, but laughing, he also said, I want to die.
And I dont presume he really meant that, not even in the least. But there was something in the way he said it that made me feel it wasnt entirely untrue. But of course it cant be untrue.
I would say the same thing if someone asked me that question, but I can only say it because I understand how its like to feel unsatisfied with my own body, and wanting to die is only that sensation pushed to its extreme. And its a shit feeling.
And insecurity in other people makes me love them, as long as they dont hide in under cockiness. There is sarcasm that feeds of stereotyped ideas of people, Of course shell get an A, shes both a bimbo and a slut and sarcasm that draws itself from personal experience. That admits to a persons fears. And I think that sort of sarcasm was never actually meant to hide anything, I dont think people hide it very well from me anyway. But I could be very, very wrong.
We are all at least a little insecure, how we deal with that is the mark of personal character.
Sometimes we all want to die... & we all ultimately will get our wish. But such thoughts should be fleeting... there's so much life to live... so little time!