in bucatarie...

frightful damp cold weather out there, fish odour and mushroomy undertones in here... business management related disputes that contrive to induce a fragrant dissention of the profoundly incompetent underlings. so here starts the 6 PM dinner ritual, evidently backed up by a severe discontent in primal misjudgement of character. this all seems so atrociously still, like a picture-perfect statement that this should be heavily imprinted in memory.

intermission

few hours later, same location, different posture...liver thawing and slowly decomposing into maroonish meaty grains in a pile of blood-shot water. and amongst potatoe peelings, strange as it may seem, while quaffing down cherry soda, in the backround of the hitting keyboard, i find myself in the midst of a sort of quarelling "family" of dearest beings - so baffeling the concept of living with two guys: they fight, they argue, the discuss, they're logical and yet unawares of themselves, they accept and never ask questions, they inferr the obvious, but in a subtle way, they... are, somewhat, carefree.

i so wish you wouldn't stirr so madly, like life depended on chicken livers...like change is possible and doctors could show up in the most unusual places. never underestimate, never disregard, never adhere to a premise you don't intend to live up to.

abruptly with no regard for consequences

Indisputable lack of sleep adorned by the lack of your interest in me
inspires selfmorphing so as to incinerate your sences and then drown
them in a pool of my distorted consciousness. I was pondering the idea
of us and it seems to me so improbable and abstract, no matter how
much I strife to entrance you, maybe because of this huge gap in
time...we met too late, but even this is better than no meeting at
all. And you're so different from anyone else I've met before...you
don't fall for the tragedy I'm capable of or my perfect damsel act, so
you've forced me to be myself around you because you won't have
anything less than my original self.
And so you left one cold dark December morning...too early in the
morning. I was somewhere on the borderline of sleep and delusion and I
pleaded with you not to leave. It's snowing out there now, above
ground, above my frozen bewilderment. I wonder, is it snowing where
you are? Can you stand the blistering cold degrading your skin or the
snowflakes dying of the hopelessness of having met you?

i do not presume to be, i am...

difficult to say what hell's fury is compared to my own emotions... ever get the feeling you're hearing metallic sounds, like a door closing, like music out of a grain of iron, like my mind going epileptic from the insatiable lust for suffering reduced to unattainable fairlytales? i don't think i've ever told you that what i want out of life is the fairytale, the impossible, the surprise, the sweeping off my feet, the sparkle in the eyes, battling the bad guys to make me feel better, flowers for no possible reason when i wake up in the morning, my favourite songs one after the other, pick me up and dance with me in the rain or snow, romance me out of my consciousness and then pin me against a wall like you're out to destroy every bone in my body and drain life and thought from my soul.

i do not presume to be, i am... the most wonderful thing on the face of the netherworlds, i am dark and obtrusive, i am devious and scheming, i am jealous and mean, i ...well, i could do horrible things if only i didn't love everything around so much. the most horrible specter of my being is in so in love with this world, it can scorn, but never harm it. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds... it might seem ghastly presumptuous, but i have a photo of everyone when i first met them. i know the colours, i can trace the light and the shadows, i know the place and most importantly you were there... no idea where i'm going with this.

Never-changeling

the truth is that there is no absolute truth, or so we love to believe. our wretched human hearts thrive on being proven wrong, they even hope for it...the fait glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe things are not as they seem, as everyone else sees them...but different. even more so, we love to find the best parts in someone and hope they truly exist and that is why, even if they do not exist...our motto may very well be: We shall invent! So, invent we do. subsequently, we come up with such distorted notions of those close to us, we come to hold them in such high regard and, most of all, are esteemed to be in the very vicinity of their presence, that one outside might believe we are bloody mad. and so we are. Madmen so enamoured with dreams and hopes and wishes, we curtain our view of the world, we take out our own eyes being firmly convinced that empty sockets and a great heart serve the purpose of sight so much better.
so, we proceed throughout this existence blindfolded, grabbing for walls, creeks and cracks, alongside our opulently adorned ideals in the form of people. along the way we are so thrilled of what we believe we have, that we fail to notice the way we're pushed aside, shoved in a corner, disregarded, ignored, trampeled on by these elemental beauties and we, in our own turn, push aside anyone that might try to remove our blissful blidfold. (I only take pity in the form of ruby-red blood dripping eyes)
after a few such experiences, our sences leave us, our strength leaves us, our own life leaves us, but we rejoyce, for this morphed self is all the better to serve our grand illusions. we are left walking carcasses, with beating hearts and no egos, blind and barely dragging our sorry selves near the masion that now houses our beloved "mirrors" - but not simply mirror people, but mirrors of distorted reality and vision, of broken dreams, mirrors of people that will never exist and whose true reflection we may never gaze upon, since our eyes are no longer in our posession. we sold them for the gilded frame adorning our mirrors.
i posess eyes, but they are locked away in a silver box
i posess a soul, but it's locked away in your mirror
i have a voice, but it will only sing for you
i have these lips, but they exist only for the glassy surface of your mirror
so, i press their transience to the cold-cut glass and leave no marks.
i will leave you now, and take that box to serve as mine eyes
i will need no voice, for i have a quill and ink is never far away
i require no lips, for there is noone they can touch
i required no soul, for i need not anymore illusions
but, i shall first break thy image and thy mirror
never to gaze into one ever again.

posh totty...

now there's a concept worth writing about and adopting to the core. the sheer feel and sound of the words make my skin tingle and my lips bleed with excitement, as the idea is, somewhat, definitory to what i, myself, hope to achieve. nonetheless, i'm more than aware that most, if not all, of you haven't the slightest clue as to what it means sooo...you can just google it, but i thought i'd save you people the trouble:

posh totty: Male or female totty whose poshness is an essential part of the appeal e.g. well educated; mellifluous voice; charming classy manners; sophisticated conversation; expensive clothes; trendy address, etc.

there you have it. now, truthfully, isn't this worth striving for? doesn't it make you quiver and fantasize of the possiblities? and, in spite of this, many might consider this as a fancy and politically correct term for "high-class hooker", something in the area of Belle de Jour, if you're familliar. i couldn't really disagree with the idea totally, but there's still something there that prevents you from scorning it in any way, it's just to elegant and blissfully decadent in its unattainable charm.
the Americans invented the "stripper glamazone" raging into battle to conquer the masses, but leave it to the Brits to come up with something as luring as posh totty; this is not the definition for a person, it's for something with the appeal-power of the sun, the charm of a snake, and the graciousness of a cobra-lily.

Post-traumatic vain apologies

I know I'm being a resentful bitch and so angry and spiteful it's hard  
for you to keep up and I hurt you, the you I know and love, the you  
who was sorry, the you who cares, but I couldn't stop myself because  
somehow I felt betrayed and alone. I still don't know for sure if you  
care or not and to what extent and this is no apology since I don't  
know what I want from you and you already apologized beforehand. I'm  
fully aware that this is going to sound cruel , but I guess I wanted  
to hear you suffer even though I would never wish to see you sad and  
I'd do anything to prevent it...but it's just so hard sometimes to  
keep track because I fall into the equation and I hate suffering so  
much as well and I don't want to end up crying even though I already  
did for putting on that stupid show with you. I just realised I could  
talk to no one else about it but you and I had just thrown you away in  
an ego fit.  Sad, isn't it? Ironic really and that choking feeling I'm  
getting again because I miss you and that's the truth.

His response:

i know u wanted to make me suffer and i know that in ur deep little black heart u want to feel that u are on top of me, that u are the only one who can reach those emotinons, deeply embeded im my soul, emotions that are never shown upfront to anyone... but u. the fact that i didnt do smth that i promised made u suffer, so u wanted me to suffer too, u wanted to return the favor and ur big ego wanted to hear me  feel remorse and sadness. u wanted to make sure and on top of that u wanted to hear me saying that im sorry. and not just hearing it, but wanted to make sure that i meant it. u sure did that, and i have fallen for that one but it has passed... i was sure that crying was the next thing u would do... but i couldnt do a thing to prevent that, i did try though... wasnt enough i see... we`ll talk tomorrow, and this is quite nothing but i still dont like and feel rested upton this little ego war... its quite damaging for both of us... u felt replaced... that is the real thing u worried about, inside... but i want to make sure that it is not the case here... and u know that very well... u just have to be sure of it.... but because i rarely show my emotions u just couldnt know :)

 

ego god has replied :d

in need of attention - desperately, NOW!

why do i have to fight and argue with people and generally be something labelled as a "self-centered bitch", but one that has moral dilemmas? i never intend on being mean with the people i love (and they are truthfully so very few, i think i'm a bit of an oddity on this planet), and no one ever does, it just happens and mostly for all the wrong reasons or due to something so trivial that, somehow, just got on my nerves at that particular time. maybe it's something even i did at times, maybe i'm just trying to find excuses for those around whom i love so much, i can't bare the idea of them hurting me on purpose - which i'm sure they never did, and neither do i, but things just happen and we get so worked up over stupid little moments like: "u didn't talk to me" - after spending the better part of an hour on the phone, "u snapped and had a harsh tone" - regardless of how tired u must be, "u didn't answer" - was sleeping.... or other such simpleminded, hillarious "jokes" that kinda bug u at times. frankly, i don't see why i even mind stuff like that, or am i just expecting those around me to be the embodiment of pleasantry and good-will at all times? it's not like any of this makes sence, it's just probably one of our ways of saying "in need of attention - desperately, NOW!", a.k.a be more considerate than u possibly thought in ur power to be :))). 

maybe i'm over-idealizing, either myself or those around me and all of this is just supposed to happen, maybe quarrels are a must in order not to be horribly bored with those around, maybe i'm being over-dramatic and reading too much into something purely stupid, stupid 1, stupid 2... or maybe there's a guilt i can't bare to live with, something i did, something i said, the way i acted... all wrong and overemotional and spreading resentment. i have no idea if this is an apology for what happened, or for everything that ever happened and i stopped remembering, but i just know i despise myself when i have to act like that, when people can't even stand my presence, when, usually, - like 90% of the time - u don't mind and just grab my arm and take me out of the bitter gutters without my noticing. i'm not aware of time when i started needing help, or became dependent, and i still don't know how to act, how to be thankful, how to notice, how not to get upset with people for just trying. honestly now, i forgive my computer every time he throws a tantrum, and it's made out of bloody plastic :))