I doubt many know just how lonely I am.
I would have given the stars and earth for two women last night. Ironically I've known them both for quite some time, been intimate with one. Beauty and despiration have a way of catching. The love of one moment made me drunk, lost in the thought of "man, I forgot how good this felt". I felt wanted. I don't know where this moment went and to be honest, my better judgement is glad it's gone. No good would come of it Webb, yet I know with every fiber of my being, if she would have asked me to escape from a life I loved and could never return to, I'd a done it.
The other woman was sort of a by-product of the first. While most would say they were revolted by the bittersweet moments of their memory, they reveled in them at one point. We enjoy both pleasure and pain and what moment better satisfies those drives than a moment that you know is ephemeral at best, yet so permanent in your heart. In it's glory to your soul, you are both warmed by it's current radiance and chilled by it's coming abscence.
Both of these incidents made me quiver, because at the heart of both I felt wanted. I doubt even I know how much I want to be wanted. But then again who doesn't. I may be a small wave in a large sea, one of the flucuations that will eventually subside on some shore and have no great impact. More than likely, however, it will be my undoing.
I dream of Minnesota. My heart and dreams say that my answer lies there, not in the passing moments of Kentucky.
Compassion for all things, that's one hell of a thing to muster and one that is wholy counter-intuitive. But once a baby carrot has been perverted in your mind, one tends to realize that we are all just as fucked in this mess we've made. I often question if anyone has a clue as to what they are doing. We're all running around with our genitals in our hands seeing who can scream, cry, and bleed the loudest, be it to an audience of one or inumberable masses. Even now I'm doing it. Shooting my profound bullshit to the winds of fate and internet traffic. I just want to make someone feel the beauty I get from being frank for a few minutes and just getting out what I have to say.
I miss true friends I often forgot I had.
The other woman was sort of a by-product of the first. While most would say they were revolted by the bittersweet moments of their memory, they reveled in them at one point. We enjoy both pleasure and pain and what moment better satisfies those drives than a moment that you know is ephemeral at best, yet so permanent in your heart. In it's glory to your soul, you are both warmed by it's current radiance and chilled by it's coming abscence.
Both of these incidents made me quiver, because at the heart of both I felt wanted. I doubt even I know how much I want to be wanted. But then again who doesn't. I may be a small wave in a large sea, one of the flucuations that will eventually subside on some shore and have no great impact. More than likely, however, it will be my undoing.
I dream of Minnesota. My heart and dreams say that my answer lies there, not in the passing moments of Kentucky.
Compassion for all things, that's one hell of a thing to muster and one that is wholy counter-intuitive. But once a baby carrot has been perverted in your mind, one tends to realize that we are all just as fucked in this mess we've made. I often question if anyone has a clue as to what they are doing. We're all running around with our genitals in our hands seeing who can scream, cry, and bleed the loudest, be it to an audience of one or inumberable masses. Even now I'm doing it. Shooting my profound bullshit to the winds of fate and internet traffic. I just want to make someone feel the beauty I get from being frank for a few minutes and just getting out what I have to say.
I miss true friends I often forgot I had.
posted by P.M. Richets at 3:58 AM
0 comments
