“Untitled, perpetually (thought and feeling)” (the best damn thing i ever made)
“We rely on outside forces to guide our lives. We refuse control, in fact we actively reject it, for we cannot be trusted with our own destiny.”
---
“What do you want from me?”
“What do you want, period?”
Do you know? she asks, and although she’s looking at you she knows that question was asked for both of you, her words buzzing like a neon sign in the empty space, hanging in the darkness with its vexing ambiguity, a white noise of sounds and syllables as the many paths of conscious thought begin to blend and converge until the are nothing, a whole lot of nothing, nothing with the hopes of being something, mindless thought with no clear purpose but its fervent enthusiasm makes up for this intrinsic lack of value.
She lights up another cigarette, the last one in the pack, she tosses it into the quickly growing pile of regrets between you, red and white and all of them empty, too. The flame of the lighter dances with her shaking hands.
How long have you known? Did you ever know?
What do you mean when you say I love you?
Do you know what it means?
Thought -- and Feeling -- are two separate entities -- Love is thought applied to feeling. Love is conscious.
---
I want to talk till I don't know what I'm saying, till thought and feeling become one and I move with the tune of my own misgivings, words slurred in sound and meaning, my roving heart breaking loose of its closely-guarded confines and taking control, I want to surrender to its promises, a euphoria unmatched by any other, when words become thoughts become feelings become actions, because it's all one, all at once, and yet so dissonant.
You really are a demon, or maybe it's the bottle beneath me,
but pain is too close to pleasure and I can no longer see straight.
---
"Are you okay?"
I am okay when I need to be, not so much when I don't. But sometimes I'm not so sure I ever need to be.
"How about us?"
How okay can we be? I ask, a question with no answer, because we will never break the surface of our own isolation to find out, we are magnets with no match, we will always come close but never make contact.
I'm starting to think that's just how humans are.
---
Another shot of vodka, you say, and you'll be set. Another shot of liquid courage, which does us no good because that courage does not exist, for even when we are laid bare, vulnerable and useless, we are hiding, hiding from ourselves and our sorrows, and in turn hiding from the world, because to know the world is to know ourselves first, and we fear the ugliness that we see through our now-empty glasses is reflected within us, breathes beneath our skin, and to reveal that ugliness is to accept it as reality.
Another shot of rum, you say, without words, and we can finally be beautiful.
You are hurting and I am hurting, as well, but we cannot meet halfway, we cannot even take the first step, we cannot see the path in front of us, and even an inch of distance is a leap of faith in total darkness.
I am afraid for you.
I am afraid for us.
---
Thought mixes with feeling like a gin and tonic sliding down your throat, a rush of warmth and the truth whispering in your ear, pushing and pulling underneath your skin with a new agenda separate from your own, one that takes what you so vainly try to hide and spells it out for you in the redness of your cheeks, the fidgeting of your hands, the water in your eyes as they speak to your turmoil with the voices they do not have.
"You're my favorite."
"You're my best friend."
"I love you."
Which is real, which is true, is it the alcohol or is it you? She's a poet by nature but this is anything but poetic.
2:33 AM wishing our time was right -- Watching day turn into night -- The pain is gone, the pain is gone -- but thought mixes with feeling and those words lose all their meaning.
---
"Everything changes. Feelings change. People change. Feelings about people change. Situations change, priorities change, everything changes, and sometimes there's a climax, a resolution to the story, or a metaphorical baptism, and sometimes (most of the time) there isn't."