turn based battles

Dec 02, 2009 11:40

i awoke in the dark to the realization of what the flashes meant. for the past two months the periodic camera flash mystery outside her window had left us slightly concerned and a touch curious. i stare out the window into the distance beyond where light allowed me to see. it made sense. it is 5:34am and i am naked i am somewhat sticky with dried sweat and general stink.

"it's the camera on the highway! that's what the flashes are, its taking pictures of people that are speeding." i dart from bed and pull on some clothes and spray down what i can with thick canned cologne. "fuck" i say repeatedly with the sudden reality of having to traverse to work.

she's comfortable under heavy blankets. i'm an asshole for leaving her and i harass her with pleas for her to drive me to work, fully aware of how awful i am. i adamantly refuse her suggestions to hail a cab, which i cannot afford. and i zip up my black coat to my throat and head out into the darkness of the morning.

a 10 minute walk uphill in a fine mist of rain. the bus is on schedule. i hop on, and the cycle continues from there.

a paycheck comes on friday. $395 USD. my rent and cost of garage-studio is $375. i have $20 to live of off for two weeks.

my blue hair is fading and is starting to just look sad. i get mixed reviews on it, old women in their sixties seem to adore it, young girls in the teens pine over it, everyone else in between seems turned off by it.

on a daily basis i travel to Faryn's apartment, its about 2 hours of walking, waiting, and riding buses one direction.

thanksgiving was beautiful. it was probably the most simply elegant and peaceful holiday i can remember ever having experienced. a 28lb turkey for two, and pans of food, in quantities to feed a hearty sized family. we ate until our stomachs hurt and then ate some more. shots of gin and a full bottle of strawberry daiquiri made the whole night seem blurry and surreal.

as my funds dwindle its probably not the best time to become increasingly reckless. yet, i find myself making mistakes i normally would avoid. careless behavior on my part. i throw off my clothes as i enter my room, glasses are tossed to a chair, wallet piled with it, coat flung atop. i navigate through piles of laundry trying to find the freshest smelling pajamas. i sit to pull on socks onto a cold set of feet. a faint easy snap under my weight lets me immediately know that i just sat on my glasses and broke them in half. i have been without proper vision. the reality of being without the ability to see doesnt sink in until i try and fail to repair them with a variety of industrial strength glues. my prescription takes a week to receive, and i cant do anything with it due to lack of money.

awhile later days pass. i have a smelly pile of clothes and i grab an armload and haul them into the washer. i cook dinner while the laundry is getting done. im waiting to call Faryn and set off to her place for some nightly adventures. i discover my cell phone in the bottom of the washer, heavy with water, completely devoid of life. i am now without communication other than when im tied to my computer.

bus fare is taking its toll and between that and cheap meals for lunch i barrel through the last $20 and am now left with $0.46 in my bank account.

i arrive to work 41 minutes late, before anyone can lecture me about my tardiness i ask to speak with the store manager in private in his office. i tell him i am turning in my two weeks notice. i cite increasing personal and financial reasons as the cause. i carry on the rest of the day in peace.

i am walking out onto air not knowing what is beneath my feet. i do not have a nother job lined up, i havent really even looked into another job. the bills will come all the same and i'll need to get onto my feet before that time comes. i want to climb ashore and get on with my life. i am not swimming through my life. i am flailing, not quite drowning, my head is barely above the water, i can barely maintain myself. i can't afford to take my girlfriend to dinner, and now i cant even afford the fucking bus to see her. i have a college degree and i make minimum wage at a part time job. i cant continue this.

i have not been painting much, i hate that. my sketches are quick and erratic. sloppy and loose. a scary sort of urgency has developed. theres no comfort to my lines, things are left awkward and nervous. the confidence in my slow methodical line is now a frightened uneasy desperate stroke. i want an art job. i need to consume myself into this. i feel as though my time spent at work is all surface, and that a burning desire lays untapped and growing in intensity. i want to run full speed into a wall. i dont know if i'll break through or end up bloody and defeated. im starting the sprint towards that metaphoric wall at this moment. break through or be broken. let's go for it.

a few nights later i try explaining the male orgasm to Faryn. i tell her about the reciprocity period. it takes me a few hours, but i realize i meant the "refractory period". thankfully though the refracory period doesnt quite take me a few hours.

you may be thinking: "so joe, how are things with the girlfriend? who is this female that has ensnared you?" its hard to put into text an answer that would encompass the whole gamut of our encounters, feelings and relationship. weve been seeing each other since oct 1. and had been making strangely awkward phone calls with one another for a month prior to that. she's been reading about my adventures and stalking me since november 2004. i dont really have experience in meeting people who know quite a bit about me prior to actually meeting me, let alone someone who knows potentially more about me than anyone i have ever known in person before. this has left a lot of the mystique and 'get-to-know-you' aspects aside as they are mostly old news.

instead the relationship has been one where more deeply personal aspects of our characters have been very immediately brought into light. on our fourth meeting we shook hands and decided to date one another in a proper relationship. of which we have been struggling to understand and achieve since then. a lot of it can be stemmed from my lack of any prior formal relationships, and the fact that i'm a social hermit. whereas Faryn is the exact opposite of my introverted ways. outgoing, direct and lively.

i seemingly have to destroy my weakness and rise myself to her level of comfort. i am largely a silent person, and its been strange for me to realize that my stupid inner workings of my brain ought to be shared at all times, even though i feel them to be erratic and off topic the majority of the time. i am methodical and reactionary, when i ought to be concerned with action.

i am terrified of losing her due to my own inability to get beyond my own shit. to get so caught up in my self perception of who i am that i block off everyone else around me. she is able to see my weakness, better often than i can.

i am greedy in that i want everything, i want perfection, i want it all to be easy. we are fucking amazing. we arrived in each other's lives at a really transitionally tragic moment, where we're both uncertain of the outcome of tomorrow, and there is little certainty to our paths. i want the dust to settle, i want the confusion and chaos to diminish. from here on our wits and intelligence can guide us more effectively down a more certain path. i want to take risks to make sure i try.

my vain mind wants to understand her. as though a boy can ever understand anything female. theyre complex creatures. im trying to give her room so that i dont hang on her every action and have myself be driven insane. and yet, she wants to be smothered by me, i want to consume and be consumed entirely. i dont want breathing room, i dont want to step outside of myself. i want to dive deeper into the madness of love and let it drown me and fill my lungs. pussyfooting around the surface testing the water isn't going to cut it. not now, not ever. i want to never have another panic attack. i dont want to be nervous or awkward. i must change my mannerisms and hone the more charming and inviting aspects of my personality. i dont want to be a character, i dont want to be a persona.

i cant tell if i'm Grief wearing a Joe mask, or Joe wearing a Grief mask. as though the art and the artist have infused and my life is mimicing art and the art will mimic life. i do not want boundaries and moral high-grounds. i want to live and be lived through.

i think i can,
-joe
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