Of new beginnings and old procedures.

16 04 2010

I was sitting on the floor next to my bed, curled up, forehead against the mattress.
On the bed was my girlfriend, an old friend. She was holding my hand and kissing it lightly.
On my back was a very young persian kitty, lying curled up on my shoulders.
Every once in a while she’d nudge my cheek with her forehead and go back to blissfull sleep.

And so, for a few minutes today, i found peace.

It’s a strange world i live in. Me and not you.
If there’s one thing i’ve never bothered doubting it’s that reality is subjective. Our conditions for contentness, even more so.
It finds me in the most peculiar of places. It surprises me time and time again, and what it has going for it is that it always finds me without prejudice or malice; simple enough if i ignore the fact that sweeping your resentment under the rug is like asking god to prove he exists – it’s a valid request, but maybe you’re missing the point.

The facts are that i have a steady job. It has it’s ups and downs and i’m thinking of quitting but i’m not ungrateful.
I left my grandmother’s house, much as i had left my mother – with pain and resentment and a stinging sense of betrayal. Then i came to, realising that it’s my mother’s mother. I’m surprised it took this long.
I moved with a work partner to a five room penthouse with a 120 square meters of open roof, a beautiful view and my own piece of heaven on earth, who’s images are to be found on my facebook page if any of you is interested.

It’s me, my partner, my partner’s partner and his screaming girlfriend (hell, that girl is LOUD!), a puppy and a kitty.
Theres beer in the fridge and no food for the most part, we have an xbox360 and a Playstation 2 connected to a 52″ screen but no telephone, the fridge door won’t close and for some ill-begotten reason the past couple of days see a hangman’s noose hanging from the top floor’s rails to the middle of the living room. Someone must have thought it funny.
Personally, i think its hillarious.

I love it here.

I’m enrolling in a university this July. Computer sciences, though the first year is mostly math. I’m terrified.
Sometimes i speak with my mother. Sometimes i don’t even feel phony doing it.
I sleep a lot.

My girlfriend is sleeping on the floor.
When i asked her what’s wrong with the bed she said the music sounds better from here. Irepress is playing.
She has been my best friend this past year, and now we’ve decided it’s time to commit, i guess. It feels more like a natural extension than a switch to me.
She has huge, brown eyes and a semi-kawaii demeanor.
I find it lovely.

Irepress are done. 45 minutes of wild beauty prove that the good stuff is always short, if only because you always wish you had more.
Now its Russian Circles’ Geneva. The song is called ‘When the Mountain Comes To Muhammad’, and i remember i always needed to find some reference to my life in song titles, especially when i was writing. Always needed to find a reason and a purpose.

I also remember my dearest is lying on the floor besides me.
Then i get the hell off of the computer and go give her some overdue attention.





Detention chronicles. (14/3/08)

18 03 2008

I’ll approach her. Invite her to come sit with me.
I’ll tell her i know she doesn’t have anything better to do, and that if it weren’t for us computer techies, she’d be bored silly -
and think of how proud my teasing her would make paratrooper boy, thinking i’m picking up to pace with his book of romantic abominations.
 
I’d get around to telling her being out by 1200 is the good life, and ask her what she does with all that free time.
She’ll look at me funny, and i’ll say i’m just preparing her to me asking if she wants to go out with me.
She’ll stare blankly for a second, and i’ll stick my tongue out at her, looking like a moron,
making her laugh.
 
Making her laugh will always have been such a rewarding process.
 
Of course she’ll go out with me.
I’ll get excited over music. She’ll like that, though she’ll find the actual music difficult.
A few hours later we’ll be discussing something and shell say something is ‘charming’ again,
and i’ll look at her with wide eyes and tell her she’s unbearable.
she’ll ask why and i’ll kiss her on the forehead.
She’l be confused, smiling vividly without looking away.
 
She’ll utter a puzzled ‘what?..’, and i’ll say it’s nothing relevant and move on.
 
We’ll both be spread on our backs, naked, and i’ll tell her she’s pretty cute in uniform,
but seeing her in her civvies is an entirely different experience.
Considering she’s even more attractive without those said civvies, i’ll explain in a well-versed and educated science channel voice,
logic and the scientific method’s principal of continuity that if i was some day to skin her, she would look even better.
 
She’ll giggle, and i’ll feel childish again.
Such a rewarding process.
 
I’ll tell her this is me being retarded all over again, and my science channel monotone will drill away at the idea being that when she sees i’m going at it like that, she’s to get me to shut up by any means neccessary, and that-..
‘Shut up’, she’ll say,
and i’ll go ‘yep, that’s one way to do it.’
 
She won’t smile.
 
This page is to be torn and disposed of, the fantasy contained herein to go with it.
I don’t know you.
Who’s soul is it that i attach to all these innocent bystanders?
Would they be honored, had they known?..





(12/3/08)

18 03 2008

 
 
 
 
 

I am caligula, glutton of gluttons,
men of all women,
a whore of all men -
and i’m
not ashamed to admit it,
it’s not enough to say
i love all of you
and i’m aroused.
You’re lying,
you’re lying.

 

We are ok in a misguided, sadist way,
we are ok.
We are ok, in a disabled, veteran way,
we are ok.







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