he was right … was he?
I don’t know what my problem is. I’ve had very intense feelings for a lot of men I’ve known. And they never go away … they just … slip into the background for a few months before some thing reminds me of them. I dredge them back up and feel so stupid and lonely again. I know that I seek the most impossible things … things in people that lures me in. Shiney things … their intelligence, their humor, their insanity, their sadness or vulernablity. And these things just haunt me forever … popping back up like silly rotting corpses … from the murk that is my life.
So I was torturing myself while thinking about “TM III”. I was curious to see if his website was still up. And it is. He still has my poetry up. I wonder about him. He told me I was … w/o creativity completely. That I was … boring. I got the impression that he thought I was nothing. No one. But yet at some point I can assume he liked that about me. Maybe he is a bit like me in the way that … once some one likes him, he likes them back to whatever extent.
But there my poetry is and there is the memory of “T” that sticks in my head. How I wanted to strangle but how I was nearly afraid of him … how he seemed smart and tender, admirable but crazy. In the end, some thing slightly pitiful trapped inside some shell … looking for something to find all the other sad little things together. He’s like a rag doll … and now that I think of it, I am too.
God only knows what I see in types like him. Like “Ivo” and like “L”. Why I fall for these complex and sad stitchings together types. Rag dolls … pretty dolls.
“i’m stuck w/ a valuable friend - i’m happy … hope you’re happy too”
*sigh*
http://www.modernevil.com/Content/Poetry/000802.php
- k
Mirrored from "The Misadventures of Kimby".