It is 2008, approximately four and a half years since I met him, and three and half years since the first break-up, and though I would like in many ways to leave every shred of love and grief for him behind, I seem unable to do so entirely. I have to see him on a regular basis, now that he is dating someone I once called a friend, a very good ( Read more... )

I suspect a danger but it is neither clear nor present, and gosh, how still he lines my dreamclouds, lines them color-silver.  I miss him dearly that much is evident.  If not elsewhere than at least when I wake from my sleeping.

Weapons dipped in chocolate are smoother under pretty-colored foil, under a scrutiny sure to advance, whipping like a cape on a snappy-gator, on a snappy-afternoon maybe in a motorcar ( Read more... )

Beckons me here with its glitter, sharp as a guitar pick gliding gracelessly down a throat who for her master will swallow any nail-studded laughable realities that drift as jets in churlish waters. Words defy and then deny, become the Enemy, another to count on a fingerless hand, we are so effective in our underwhelmed wintriness, our cheeks ( Read more... )

Garland is the executioner's tribute to capitalism under the spell of seasonal sentiment. He soaks in gasoline at night. He chews every word and then spits it out. Nutrition hardly a concern. So I try, in my way, to stuff him full of vitamins but every keystroke is a beheaded peacock. He's stubborn and I'm religious. Doggedly, stupidly, ( Read more... )

Too. Too too many. None matter. NONE. Nothing ( Read more... )

This vacuum scares me more than merely ceasing to exist, which has always scared me more than anything at all.

I suppose I'll have to drag my ass into counseling. Is there a Jass-specific support group? Or a group for idiots like me, anyway?

Meanwhile: leftover rum is mentally raping my resolute eyeball.

Complaint city. The dialect in this smog dream is just distinct enough to merit redistricting. This is the town, not the city, if we want to be honest. Our past selves can populate but only at a modest rate, and a living stipend barely covers the cost. You could send me the wages, I've been waiting for them ( Read more... )

There's a tune, but ( Read more... )

It hurts like fucking hell.

I don't have any words anymore.