(no subject)
my father
my dad taught me many things:
"it's later than you think."
"we will all one day, find ourselves alone."
"time doesn't heal all wounds -the mind does."
"poetry is never a waste of time."
once my dad told me that kim bassinger locked herself in her room as a teenager too, so i had a chance at being normal. kim bassinger turned out to be a nut. but the comfort was for him, not me.
in all the lonely hours i've spent listening to the cure and depeche mode and mazzy star, all i can say is thank god i made it through. my dad didn't have any answers for someone like me. he created, with my mother, this anomaly. who i am is loosely based on who they were, but more on who they would or wouldn't let me be in their presence.
now i have quiet. i have a quiet mind most days. sometimes i still wish i could roll over and read all day and lock myself away, but instead i get up and go to the gym and do push-ups and lift weights or run or all of them. i also make music, even if i am too shy to ever do anything with it. life is about the process of learning. end results, or rather, searching for the end result is a futile act.
i am a new toy and i like playing with myself these days. i decide i'll do something. sometimes i do it. sometimes i forget about it a few hours after i think it up. endless... cycles. this is the basic truth i have learned in the last few years. i lived hard only because i wanted to learn those lessons. self-denial and pain are beasts of burden. they make us human. but without them we're nothing.
one spring night, john made love to sharon. maybe it was against their pool table. maybe it was missionary style in bed; beginning with a lingering hot kiss and punctuated with dad's brow-sweat splattering on my mother's cheek. in that moment of orgasm, it was decided. kelly will be born an old soul with enormous brown eyes that swim with sadness.
her search will begin with midnight breast-yearning tears, calmed only by mother's milk. and it will all end in sudden death. how it all started so violently. a scream. gasping for air with lungs used to fluid. and how it slows down to nothing. a final sigh. a fluttering eyelash. a seppuku of words.
words.
sword.