Here we are still

I got it in my head a couple of years ago that a spiritual fast was needed. That I needed to learn to let go of my “toxic” ways so that I might have healthier relationships. And learn I did, a few things. Some in the wrong direction, some in the right direction. And just recently I decided to give it one more try (I suppose apologies are in order for always only coming back after such times). this time around has me nearly entirely convinced that I am terrible and irredeemable at romantic relationships, and I’m completely fine with that. As long as I’m honest with it.

Markers on Paper bag cutouts

People’s obsession with hearing the words I love you and live out their fairytales is the very reason why people end up in relationships that amount to zero.

They convince themselves that their lust is so much more and then are surprised when they don’t feel the love,  then they heartbroke.

There’s nothing divine about pain. Definitely not for something as abundant as love.

Saying “I love you” doesn’t make it real. And not saying it does not make it a myth.

Perhaps if people spent less time chasing  and more time enjoying they’d see this.

Perhaps if they spent less time chasing the words and the gifts and the grand gestures and spent more time enjoying the company of  those they are in love they’d see that. There is no pain in it, just in the expectations you attach to it and the very many rules and regulations you conjure up to quantify it.
                                                                   

True love cannot, at all, be quantified. There’s no standard   average for it.

If its truly love, nothing can come inbetween that, not even death. But,  not knowing what it is, is a suffering worse than death itself

Conversations Of Loav – Pt. 3

“Can I ask something?” he asked, stabbing his food mindlessly and avoiding eye contact. “why did you ask me here?”
“Well… I thought we could catch up, a bit and… Well, I mean, you remember what I made you promise before we broke up, I don’t know, somehow you came to mind not long before…”
Funny, I had finally managed to stop thinking about you.
“… I thought, I don’t know.” Kit finished off.
There it is. That puppy eye look I spent so long rubbing out of my mind. Clearly I botched that job up otherwise why would it still bother me? Fuck! . He had been playing with his food again.
“I messaged you a couple years after that, letting you know that you were right and I’d finally gotten around to seeing it. I messaged you because I’d finally come to terms with shit. After piss and muddle, after the depression and shit.” should I be saying this? “I found a place where I could just be fine. I wasn’t the best person in the best of places back then, as for you, I can’t say. Being across from you is just… Look, it hurts. I think I still love you, I think I always will, but I can’t go back there not with you or anyone else, I should know better than that” I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Just shut the fuck up and fuck the fuck off, man “I’m sorry, it was nice seeing… That you’re good.” he said as he stood and walked off.
There is no fucking joy for me today. Absolute fucking zero fucking joy, I’m over this shit.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzt Bzzzzzzzzzzzzt
Who the fuck is this now? As he opens the text on his, “oh the fuck no, fucking Christ man, no”

Conversations Of Loav Pt. 2

Loav woke with a start, and to night sweats. He did not need to remember his sleep visions to know to whom he owed the cause. Que sera, sera. For the life of him he could not say why he’d agreed to this… Meeting. He made no effort to acknowledge the sleeping woman laying to his right and made for the shower. What are you doing, man?, he thought to himself as the water pricked his skull, what the fuck are you doing going there. After all these years, what are you doing? Maybe you won’t even run into her, but would you really be going if she hadn’t said. We’re quite pitiful aren’t we? A lonely smile creeping across his face. Not until he was drunk from the steam did he step out to face the crisp, autumn air. He chose his pair of high-tops converses, faded grey chino pants, a dark grey high collared cardigan, and threw on a heavy bronze neck chain he would need to throw over his head twice to cut the length for good measure, and he headed for the kitchen.

“Good morning”, the girl sang as he entered the kitchen. “where do you keep your coffee, it’s the thing I can’t find?”
“Oh, morning” I forgot someone else was here “Cabinet on top. The coffee plunger is under the sink.” he sat at the table and drew a cigarette looking absent mindedly out the window.
“Smells great, many thanks” she expects me to brew my own coffee? I can’t say if that’s lazy or smart. I’ll just assume she drinks instant. Whatever this girls name was, she was prancing around the kitchen in his shirt and nothing else he noticed as she stretched trying to reach the peanut butter at the back of the cabinet. 1.5 something metres tall, skin the colour of banana milkshake, hair that could have only come from polyethylene packaging, hips nearly twice as wide as his own, a waist only wide enough so he could wrap his arm around and play with her navel and a pretty face.
“Come clean this up” the girl looked over her shoulder, smiled and walked over to kneel between his knees.

****

There is no joy for me today. The festival on the opposite end of the city, in the park by the lake. The air smelt of fresh water and pond scum, acrylic and street food, perfumes and, sniff sniff, weed. He was walking by through the marquees, inattentively. The smoking did nothing to distract him from his mood. He noticed someone pointing a camera his way. It was Kit – that was the name he had given her in the past. She was in a white maxi dress, some flimsy thing he assumed was a badly worn button up jersey and a bowler hat. A woman he had little trouble recognising. Well, there goes hoping we’d completely miss each other.
“I didn’t actually think you would show” she gave him a quick hug. There’s that smile again, damn it!
“Well ‘a man is nothing without his word’ I’ve heard being said. Somewhere. I think”, he replied carefully.
“Could we grab something to eat and sit. There’s a nice street cuisine spot I like”, she looking right at him. Thank god for shades.
“I haven’t had anything since breakfast. I could eat”, he lied. The naked girl had finished off, zipped him up and he had asked her to get dressed so he might drop her off at her place. He had hardly touched the food. “Still terrible at conversation, I see” she commented after failing to engage him in conversation, “and since when do you smoke?”
“Not without trying, I guess I never stopped being an awkward nerd” he chuffed, “order for me, I trust you. I’ll go book us a bench”. He left her to order and found a seat, and freed his affects from his pockets. She placed the food in front of him and eyed the cigarette between his fingers.
“stress habit”, he said quickly
“are you stressed now”
“this and every other waking minute” why is she giving me that sad, disappointed look of hers? And why in the name of Christ did I take off my sunglasses? “Can I ask something?” he asked, stabbing his food mindlessly and avoiding eye contact…

Conversations Of Loav – Pt. 1

The café was busy, bustling, alive just as he’d come to know it. Having just moved to The New City for his new job. Sitting there at his table going through his saturday morning ritual of coffee and cigarettes. I’ve never felt so at peace, Loav thought to himself. Relocating had signified a new start, having come to find his life tedious, he’d come to despise OldGoldstonBurg. He’d been boiling at lid with excitement when he was told the promotion would need him to relocate and he couldn’t have accepted it fast enough.

“hey, Loki”, someone said behind him. A name he’d earned because of his mischievous personality, and she had given it to him. In moving he’d sought to rewrite his life, he had not thought he’d meet anyone so far from his past, especially not her.
“Oh, hey, what’s up?”, fuck. Well, I failed at hiding my surprise. “please, sit. Join me” he signalled for the waitron. A lanky, miserable young fellow whose pants looked a size too small and hung low and his shirt seems two sizes too big, the look of him reminded him of a time he would sooner have forgotten, she made her order from him. Something he was too preoccupied with his thoughts to note.

“How are you doing? I hadn’t expected to bump into anyone I knew around here” he confessed. Keep your face plain and the conversation generic.
“I’m well, I’m actually here for the arts festival. I’m one of the photographers there” she started off. “Why are you so far from home?”
“Work convention”, he lied. That was easy.
“You should pass by. You still like the arts, don’t you?” she said. He knew the look on her face, he didn’t like it, it had often landed him in trouble. “You look great, you’ve gained a couple kilos”, she said smiling
“How dare you, I’ve been trying to drop the baby fat. Okay?” he gasped, feigning hurt, to which she giggled. Did she mean to brush my leg with hers just now?
“So, I got to run now. Tomorrow?”, why am I continuing with this? WHAT AM I SAYING?!?!
“Yeah, see you there.” she said. There’s that look again. He stood up and left a 100 on the table. Well fuck, I just dug my own death, fuck, he thought to himself, clicking his lighter as he walked off. Don’t look back, she never gave you that courtesy last time, just walk and don’t look back.

JuneBug

I have this cup. I keep this cup turned downside up. and once in a while my naïve side crawls up out of the hole I stuffed it in and does some spectacularly retarded shit, like decide to turn the cup the right way up.

The problem is; there’s a reason why that glass stays like that. See this glass is like Pandora’s Box, minus the happiness and shit at the bottom of the box and shit. Once this cup fills up, its quick to overflow and once that happens all the shit falls to hell and I regret all the shit and yada yada fish paste.
Then I turn down again, everything is still acid burnt and fucked to death, but you know what after that all crap goes away and shit.

This glass I’m talking about is how much is my “care” glass. Don’t be retarded, it’s a metaphor.
my point now is caring is usually not worth it, because you care and put in the work and all that shit and still get blasted in the face with shit, piss and barf. Afterward, when I feel sad, alone, dejected, disappointed, rejected and all around all around just fucking depressed, I remember why I chose to not ever give the tiniest of fucks in the first place. That shits like playing with water when you’re clearly fire. It just don’t end well.

So for now I go back to my cave and indulge in all of my little fucked up luxuries. All the while fixing the colossal mess that naïve fool made. Oh, yeah, I have a gigantic ass crush. Schoolyard puppy kinda shit, you know! Like, bad bad, all disgustingly cute shit. This girl is the Rose. I was supposed to lead with that, I guess. Romantics are born, cynics are made. I didn’t survive the battle, I am made a cynic. It’s smarter, its logical. It will win the war. But that romantic naïveté is for the birds.

So now the cup is upside down, the fool back in his cage, and me left with a mess.

(X_X) I just hope she doesn’t see this ever

The Sun SHALT Set!

it hit me just the other day like a wave.
okay i’m lying. it was more like a beacon in the mist.
point is, I had a mini epiphany, or at least i hope that’s what it was.
and like any story worth telling it started a little back in the day
when I stopped dreaming because it didn’t seem worth it. i mean dreaming
up your future is never really a waste but I was tired of being disappointed
you know. so i stopped and i just lived.
but now i’m starting to get the feeling that that’s what might be holding me back
right now.
I think that’s why I liked Black Orchid Girl so much, she gave me something to
look forward to. a dream to live for. i’m beginning to think that is what I need.
a dream to live for. long-term goal to work toward.

i’m thinking big now. lavish. extravagant. extraordinary.
I want my bmw 1M with all the fixings. I want my big house in a quiet secluded
suburb. i want my Playstation, desktop pc, Dstv, hooked up to my HD flat
screen TV, all hooked up to my 6.1 speaker surround sound home theater system.
I want my mancave with a fully stocked bar, complete with arcade area; fooseball table,
pool table, and classic arcade game machines and hookah station.
I want my English & american style tailored suited with a white old butler (excuse the
somewhat racist undertone there, or not, whatever… lol).
I wanna get to travelling for no other reason except just doing it.
I got the vision. all I need now is a strategy.
I want it all. now all I need is the motivation.
the sun shalt set on me. not until i’m done with this.
I might be late to the show but you know the old saying right?
i’m honestly just gonna reach past my grasp.

Moonlight

my pretties, my lovelies. the fire is waning, you aren’t here to tend to it. please tend to it. it was only by necessity that I did what I did, I needed to do it. I was not the one who sent you away. I am not angry with you. please do not hate me. come back to me. come dance with me once more. come dance with me under the moonlight. come back to me and dance with me under the moonlight, around the bonfire. come gyrate, ululate, hop, skip, jump, wind, grind, vibrate, step with me. come. come be merry with merry with me under the blanket of dark and, light of the moon and stars. you silly little skamps. my pretty little demons, come. you kissed my soul too well for too long for me to just let you go like so. come back to me and dance with me under the moonlight, around the bonfire. it’s just not as terrifying without you.

Just One Person

Usually I try stand alone.

Often people try tell me shit and their words fall
on deaf ears.

And they are really annoying even for even trying, because if they were any kind of smart then they would know that there is but one person who can manage to break through the shit

Only she can make me listen

Only she can make me think

Only she can give me all the perspective I need in my life

… For my life!

Many people use many different names to identify her.

I too have a few too many for her myself.

But only one is really important, MOM!

I can tell you a lot of cheesy chit about her.

But two simple honest truths stand

She’s awesome and I’ll love her to death
Yes, the second bit of that is, in itself, cheesy but
fuck you if you expect me to apologise or blush about it.

I honestly forget this, one time too often, I forget what I need her for
as opposed to what I think I will need her for.

Sometimes I forget what she means to me.
Sometimes I forget what she’s done for me.
Sometimes I forget how lucky I am.
Sometimes I forget what I’m meant to do for her.

And it’s not always pretty when she reminds me of these.

I’ll die before I disappoint her.
I’d die before I let her see me fail my life.
I’d die before I let her die from a broken heart.
I make it my responsibility to make she dies with a smile.

And for all she’s done for me I will repay her.
The good in kind
and the bad with the other cheek.
She, to me, is more of a god than any imaginary being
written about in religious scripts, and more righteous.

She is my mother, she is awesome.
I won’t say much more about her, you don’t need to know that much.
Except, maybe, one thing. Only her children will ever fuck with her.

AND ANYONE ELSE?!?!…

WILL HAVE ME TO ANSWER TO

Take Me To Paradise

I want to leave
Go, go somewhere where
The skies are blue, the sun is bright,
The tree stays green, the flowers always in bloom
And the grass is lush.
Please, can we go there?
Can we go to the place where the ground is plushie soft.
The place where the falls spray the air.
Where sprites and faeries frolic about your head and unicorns and pegasus graze in the meadow beyond.
Would you please take me there?
Would you please take me to the place the water tastes like fruit juice.
Fruit juice tastes like chocolate milkshake.
Chocolate milkshake tastes like wine.
And wine tastes like water.
Where the pelt of the sheep is cotton candy
Porcupines carry liquorice vines
And snakes bite euphoria.
Please!
Take me to paradise 🙂
Where I can live merry, peaceful and care free.

I’d much like that, I would. It would be awesome.

be GOOD kids 😀