Keep on walkin'
Dear Oblivious,
Tragedy and heartache bellowing from the inside and love and bliss gleam from the outside of this chaotic life. Every time I think your name, see your face or hear your voice my sub-conscious stabs me in the nether regions of my heart. Ducking and weaving, cutting and chopping, singing and dancing, nothing can cure the crazy bitch slap of confusion you have dealt to my faith, love and happiness. I have to say, this letter could be a bit intense and brutally honest, so if you are all peachy and smiles you may want to cut loose now and avoid this one all together. Still here? Fuckin' aye, let's roll this rock!
Come with me to a place I call spacious happiness or more accurately, barren happiness. Sweet emotion of the carrousel called Desire is our vehicle. Jump on, grab tight and brace yourself for our extravagant journey into the painful beauty of that old four letter hellion of a word. Love…what a whorish representation of an emotion. She is here and then over there, with you and now with the next guy. If she were a key, she would fit a million locks and land on a million key chains. Oblivious, Oblivious, why did we go so far into the candy store without buying anything? It is like we are locked in an isle with nothing but black licorice and stale gum; step back on and let's see if we can find something a little more enticing.
Desire, our charming carrousel, has brought us to the next game in the barrage of possible memories. Wanting grows with each moment and a suspicious love forms with each recollection. Grab my hand with your icy talons and squeeze it like you can taste the love in my heart that has begun to boil for you. The energy to throw my blanket over you and rescue your heart from a solo career is overwhelming. I can see your distaste for true love in the way you tell me that you love me and want me forever. I do see it, your love, I do see it, but it is not there, but I see it and I know it.
Despite the charms of each moment we move to the next stage of Desire’s carrousel. New experiences are waiting as we step off into the crowd of forgettable faces. These new moments, they look and feel like the old, but with a new spice. This is the kind of spice that screams how different it is, reminiscent of an adolescent teenager. So much screaming, it is starting to show us how different the new experience is, so much that we know it is the same feeling, wait….same emotion, wait…same experience, there we go. It is all the same, so let’s keep saying it’s different and smile all the way to the next stop.
Sometimes, on a sad stop, the exit is where the carrousel must face. Depressing, of course it is. Avoidable, of course it is not. With your icy grasp and your callous love that you express to me with a consistent and 'burning through my soul' demonstration, you guide me. We approach the exit, thus I start to wonder about the ability we have to stay with Desire’s carrousel and enjoy our time together. Still, your hand says it is time to go as you tug me towards the exit. My heart pounds for you because of how little you love me. Twisted and jaded now, I want to stay in the carrousel and become dizzy, dizzy like I have never been before. I try and resist our approach, but you defy my desire and become heart set on that exit.
My voice echo’s throughout now, trying to show you that we still have plenty of time. The carrousel will welcome us back, regardless of any past actions. I sing the best song of persuasion and debate the greatest argument for you, you to stay and for you to stop! And get back on Desire’s carrousel before she leaves us. Futile are my efforts as you have become hypnotized by the glowing red lights of the exit sign and want to see what can become of your heart outside of this festival of fairytale endings and beginnings. Defeated I drop to my knee’s and watch you walk into the sunset. The broken record skips and plays again and here I am drowning you out with loud music…just like before….just like I knew I would be.
Deniably Confused,
Joey
Tragedy and heartache bellowing from the inside and love and bliss gleam from the outside of this chaotic life. Every time I think your name, see your face or hear your voice my sub-conscious stabs me in the nether regions of my heart. Ducking and weaving, cutting and chopping, singing and dancing, nothing can cure the crazy bitch slap of confusion you have dealt to my faith, love and happiness. I have to say, this letter could be a bit intense and brutally honest, so if you are all peachy and smiles you may want to cut loose now and avoid this one all together. Still here? Fuckin' aye, let's roll this rock!
Come with me to a place I call spacious happiness or more accurately, barren happiness. Sweet emotion of the carrousel called Desire is our vehicle. Jump on, grab tight and brace yourself for our extravagant journey into the painful beauty of that old four letter hellion of a word. Love…what a whorish representation of an emotion. She is here and then over there, with you and now with the next guy. If she were a key, she would fit a million locks and land on a million key chains. Oblivious, Oblivious, why did we go so far into the candy store without buying anything? It is like we are locked in an isle with nothing but black licorice and stale gum; step back on and let's see if we can find something a little more enticing.
Desire, our charming carrousel, has brought us to the next game in the barrage of possible memories. Wanting grows with each moment and a suspicious love forms with each recollection. Grab my hand with your icy talons and squeeze it like you can taste the love in my heart that has begun to boil for you. The energy to throw my blanket over you and rescue your heart from a solo career is overwhelming. I can see your distaste for true love in the way you tell me that you love me and want me forever. I do see it, your love, I do see it, but it is not there, but I see it and I know it.
Despite the charms of each moment we move to the next stage of Desire’s carrousel. New experiences are waiting as we step off into the crowd of forgettable faces. These new moments, they look and feel like the old, but with a new spice. This is the kind of spice that screams how different it is, reminiscent of an adolescent teenager. So much screaming, it is starting to show us how different the new experience is, so much that we know it is the same feeling, wait….same emotion, wait…same experience, there we go. It is all the same, so let’s keep saying it’s different and smile all the way to the next stop.
Sometimes, on a sad stop, the exit is where the carrousel must face. Depressing, of course it is. Avoidable, of course it is not. With your icy grasp and your callous love that you express to me with a consistent and 'burning through my soul' demonstration, you guide me. We approach the exit, thus I start to wonder about the ability we have to stay with Desire’s carrousel and enjoy our time together. Still, your hand says it is time to go as you tug me towards the exit. My heart pounds for you because of how little you love me. Twisted and jaded now, I want to stay in the carrousel and become dizzy, dizzy like I have never been before. I try and resist our approach, but you defy my desire and become heart set on that exit.
My voice echo’s throughout now, trying to show you that we still have plenty of time. The carrousel will welcome us back, regardless of any past actions. I sing the best song of persuasion and debate the greatest argument for you, you to stay and for you to stop! And get back on Desire’s carrousel before she leaves us. Futile are my efforts as you have become hypnotized by the glowing red lights of the exit sign and want to see what can become of your heart outside of this festival of fairytale endings and beginnings. Defeated I drop to my knee’s and watch you walk into the sunset. The broken record skips and plays again and here I am drowning you out with loud music…just like before….just like I knew I would be.
Deniably Confused,
Joey