soured yogurt that makes me sick
i think i suffer from how much love we hold. like a worn child's stuffed animal, i have been loved until im unrecognizable, i have let love turn me into a matted, vomit stained version of my former self. love has rendered me unloveable. i would say it's ironic but it isn't, i always knew it was going to turn out like this. im a prophet of love, i forecast how much you're going to hate me by the end of this (30% chance of rain and high force winds) and i forecast how good it's going to make me feel. neither of us worship love. i used to, when it felt bad. but it feels too good for me to pray at the altar of. god is supposed to hurt. all that shit about god being benevolent is bullshit, the beauty of being in love with the lord is that he will never return your calls, he will never show up at your door with flowers, he will never tell you he likes the way you look when you smile with your eyes, just to show you he loves you. god only shows you he loves you with pain, with suffering. you are like me therefore i love you. you are like my son therefore i love you. you suffer therefore i love you. so, neither of us worship love.
you don't worship love because you can't see it. you don't worship anything but the curve of your jaw in the mirror. you worship me, on a bad day, a day where even the eyes in your reflection seem to lie to you. i could never lie to you unless you wanted me to. on bad days, i get a chance to make you in my own image. you're creative, you're a genius, you're a beam of light that alters the way the room looks. and you believe me. you believe me because on those days i dont even think you can see anything in the mirror (and we have been over this, you are your own religion) so you must let me carve you a statue to worship. this works well, i like making up characters, i like forming something with my bare hands. and maybe playing god a little bit. i always make sure to build in a veil over your eyes so you cant see the way they look just like mine, the way my ego is written all over my face. i love you on these days the best because your misery is so organically mine and your joy is artificially mine as well.
but like all good makers (and i do say i am a good maker) i build something exclusively to knock it down. im not interested in playing victim anymore, it doesn't suit me. playing at this character who only suffers at the hands of love isn't me. i find im much more suited to strangling love between two fists. you break out of plaster and im left unsatisfied. you always have to find a way to ruin my work. youre something thats jumped off the page before i was done and i forgot to give you a brain of any sorts. im not trying to be subtle anymore, i think youre a fucking idiot.
i think i've grown too angry to realize what im trying to say. you need me, i like having you around. itsniceitsgood. i think about you and i drive myself insane. i am not a slave to my desire but a slave to my rage. i carve myself a place in your life and stow my body there. you pretend not to notice.