[ With Symbiotic Self-Indulgence, 3.] [ The Uptake (table of contents) ]
defunct outdated draft. you want this one
“In those days, desires weren’t allowed to become reality. So, fantasy was substituted for them–films, books, pictures. They called it ‘art.’ But, when your desires become reality, you don’t need fantasy any longer, or art.”
–Amyl Nitrate, “Jubilee”
The small kitchen table in Cecil and ‘Choly’s studio apartment abutted a full-height open-frame modular shelving unit which doubled as a space divider. Slumped at it, before ‘Choly was a quaint parchment-and-string box, a small kitchen knife, and his reader on a kickstand. He rubbed at his face in a dull restlessness, staring down some of the pieces he had in his drafts. Ultimately, he stood and paced a good bit the long narrow space which ran from one end of the apartment to the other, a track which functioned not unlike a hallway.
“Are you all right?” Cecil asked from the loft-bunk in the front corner of the room, not looking up from where he’d curled up with a physical book. “I made more coffee before I got comfy, if you want.”
“Yeah, trying to work on some writing. A hot drink sounds good, really.”
'Choly rinsed out his mug and poured himself a fresh cup, and sat again. Then, he snipped the string with the knife and unfurled the wrappings to reveal a wax-coated box. His glasses came off and lay across the table from him, as he continued massaging at his cheeks and chin and neck marbled with scars. Abruptly, he switched frames to his messenger app and clicked on Augen’s username. A heavy sigh came out of him, and rather than initiate conversation he produced from the small box a chalky-looking pastel ball the size of a fruit. With a small detachment he smoothed out the parchment with his free hand, setting the ball down atop it with the other. He also fished from the box a plastic bottle containing a thick amber substance, which he set by his drink. Drawing up the knife, he was about to make a cut, but stopped short.
“I got confec earlier. Y’want a slice?” He would have mentioned the resin, but didn’t want to share that.
“Hm? Yeah, I’ll take it.” Inviting it, Cecil didn’t question the acquisition.
The dreg pressed the knife into the edge of the ball, which had a mealy consistency somewhere between soap and fudge. A quarter-inch butt fell to the paper, and he got up and took it over to his boyfriend, who reached down to accept it. Cecil put it in his mouth, a dry ineffectual suck, and sank back down into his nest of comforters to return to his book. Once he’d returned again to his reader, ‘Choly made two more slicing motions and doled one disc for himself, letting the hyssop-like bouquet dissolve on his tongue as he sank into his chair and stared at the messenger window he’d opened.
ketherphorbia: what are you up to tonight, fish dick?
9augen: admiring the moon, if it really interests you. its full tonight
ketherphorbia: you’re such a goth omg
9augen: im taking a break from scavving the ocean bed of the bay. its not a bad thing to pause and admire natural beauty. honestly im surprised i can see it from beneath the surface of the water
ketherphorbia: you can? that’s nuts
ketherphorbia is typing…
9augen: i found another prosthetic eye earlier. i think that makes 5 now
ketherphorbia has stopped typing.
ketherphorbia: do you ever write to get shit out of your system? like. not in a carnal sense. sort of in a carnal sense. an emotional sense. a purgative sense?
ketherphorbia: also that sounds neat. dare i say eye-catching
9augen: terrible
9augen: im not sure i see what youre getting at, but most of the time my writing takes a particular headspace. that, or as you insinuated, a good inspiration does wonders to get me in the mood for it as well
ketherphorbia is typing…
ketherphorbia: you remember how i was writing stories about me getting with the geek, but then i stopped abruptly? the last wip i posted before i stopped, was right after i found out that the geek and larva were the same person. early on, the reasons i couldn’t reconcile with finishing the piece were because of how badly the encounter went when i first met him. then he caught me stalking him and.
ketherphorbia: you remember that right? i know i sent you a selfie of the black eye he gave me
9augen: you couldnt shut up about it for a month.
ketherphorbia: he even tracked me down, what, five weeks later? and things got super weird. i’m still trying to process everything that happened.
ketherphorbia: forewarning i’m thrushed
9augen: hoping a mouthful of wax would help you focus? noble, i suppose
9augen: this is about the walls, isnt it.
ketherphorbia: not quite. and yet exactly
ketherphorbia: i just. i owe it to him to get the details right, don’t i? it feels real lousy to even consider writing a nonfictional account of him, and yet
ketherphorbia: i feel like i need to get the very concept of him in print to get it out from inside of me. i know it’s already been two years since the walls went up, but i don’t think it’s possible for me to forget even for a day
ketherphorbia: how do you stay motivated to write something that hurts and arouses you, both in ways nothing else has ever really managed to?
9augen: a difficult question. but, perhaps a better reply is another question: who are you writing this for?
ketherphorbia has stopped typing.
ketherphorbia: …i’d say it was for me, but i feel like i need to put his ghost to rest. i’d say it was for him, but it’s also in hopes of jamming my brain because something more accurate could exist of him. and i’d say it was for you or any of my followers, but i… don’t even know if i can bring myself to post it after completing it…
ketherphorbia: i gotta have a second slice
9augen: youre already waxing, man. i dont blame you for wanting to melt, but i know you dislike worrying cecil
ketherphorbia: we’re both thrushed tbh. i could eat the whole confec right now and i’m considering it. gives everything such a *veneer*
9augen: seeing what youd write from that would be entertaining to say the least. that is, if you even got words on screen.
ketherphorbia: …you’re right
9augen: you never did tell cecil about the geek, did you? have you ever wanted to?
ketherphorbia: i told him about chalcedony. and he hasn’t said anything but i know he knows about the geek. i don’t think i will ever get used to how open he is to it. it’s as though he believes leaving me untethered keeps me more faithful. he’s not wrong, though, i guess
ketherphorbia: i miss your face
ketherphorbia: i miss you sandwiched between us. skin like glue
9augen: stop wasting your high on me and go burn yourself out on your writing, bug dick. i need to get back to work anyway
