Part One: The Great Destroyer

[ontolograph]

I dont know if my first brush with the dangerous side to my mania was when I stole that car and saw the entire country or if it occured in the spring of 2005, when I stayed awake for days drinking a case of red wine, rearranging my home, painting with acrylic (the theme, for a reason unknown to me, was birds. Birds representing failure, flight, madness, longing, and implosion) and having what I would later dub as an intellectual affair with a man in England. I think for the time being I will go with the latter. That springtime mania broke down a lot of barriers on what I considered appropriate for a loving relationship between two people. My other half at the time would simply call this breakdown of barriers, along with it's subsequent consequences, "cheating". For the sake of fairness, I have learned to call it that as well. Though I have learned that most everyone has a different take on this thing called "cheating", and it mostly all depends on what triggers jealous feelings within them.

Fuck this. I dont have the attention span to recall the destruction and somewhat surprising redemption of my self and relationships in anything other than short and honest verse.