The dead and dreaming...
Scaredthe other evening
he was trying to break into
an electric light bulb
and fry himself on the wires
why do you fellows
pull this stunt i asked him
because it is the controversial
thing for moths or why
if that had been an uncovered
candle instead of an electric
light bulb you would
now be a small unsightly cinder
have you no sense
plenty of it he answered
but at times we get tired of using it
we get bored with the routine
and crave beauty
and excitement
fire is beautiful
and we know that if we get
too close it will kill us
but what does that matter
it is better to be happy
for a moment
and be burned up with beauty
than to live a long time
and be bored all the while.
--archy and mehitabel by Don Marquis
There are days when I don't know how to get by. When I am lost and confused and engraged, all at once, swimming in seas of indecision. I am trite, to say the least.
I have been a whore. A druggie. A dropout. A quitter. A non-quitter, but not for the good things. And I am not being metaphorical anymore.
I want to lose myself again. I find comfort in the things that keep me from having to be who I really am. I find comfort in the self-destruction, the loneliness, the emptiness, the solitude. And yet, when I am there, I long for something more. But when I get it, I lose all interest.
It is easier to hurt.
The things that I have done, been, they were never mistakes or bad circumstances. They were choices, calculated and purposeful. They brought me to where I wanted to be, and that was where no one else was. In a hole in the ground.
There is a man who loves me with all that he has in his soul. He wants to bring me back from the brink of insanity. No, he doesn't. He wants to help me bring myself back from the brink. He wants to hold me every night when I cry. He wants to take my pain away.
I love him very much. And yet, I still find myself pushing him away because it is easier. Because it would make me free to bring myself down without any consequences. Because it would make it so that I could die and he wouldn't hurt. But I can't do that this time. I can't make him go away. I need to learn to love the happiness that he gives me.
Dirty no more.
I will be dirty no more.
And the crestfallen me will die.
more later...
--
"My little old man and I fell out;
I'll tell you what 'twas all about,--
I had money and he had none,
And that's the way the noise begun."
--
[acquantaince]
Hey there,
thanks a ton for the read and
--
"I love you more than my own skin." -- Frida Kahlo
--
yadda yadda, gulp some rain.
--
Ff
--
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