Friends

16 December 2009 @ 09:09 pm

being here, back in the midst of this barren land, with the emptiness of the memories I clutch onto half-heartedly; is so strange. In the middle of a conversation I suddenly become aware that I am speaking and the person in front of me is blurring into translucent figures and I'm trying to feel the ground firmly beneath me, touching body parts methodically, subtletly, attempting to reenter reality, and I can't. None of this is real, I don't feel it anymore. I feel the harsh weight of matt's disappearance from my life, I feel my skin crawling back towards him, I feel my shriveling heart beating angrily inside of me, vehement at my lack of consistency, my inability to be fulfilled. From the moment of action the desire ceases to exist, it slithers recklessly into another desire and then another. I don't want to be so unbearably light, so flimsy and breakable. A moment of complete contmentment will never happen for me, will it? Because while other's ascertain their direction in life based on what would make them happy, I retreat inside of myself, become lost in the impossibility, the finiteness of life. What would make me happy? What is happiness for me? Do I want to be happy? No. I am horrible flawed. I can only ever remember romantic fantasies of loneliness and loss, impulses towards destruction that devoured me fully. I can't navigate my way out of this limboland between life and death. I know nothing of myself, except my inconsistencies. I am empty and I just want to be filled.

later; so you finally called and my heart was paralyzed by your voice and you were boisterous and speaking quickly and I could tell you were going through a manic episode, but my quietness calmed you and you spoke softly when you said, "I'm sorry, sometimes it's just easier to not respond, this is painful you know, having to let you go." I was evasive and vague and slowly melting at the sound of your voice and I finally told you that I missed you, that your topic of sex was making me incredibly jealous, thinking of you making love to her, that you made me feel things so intensely that it frightened me. But you barely heard it because delilah was getting in the car and somehow the phone was passed to her and I wanted to sob at the loss of your words, and my unwarranted jealousy of her, your wife, the mother of your children. I have no right and she has every right. And it kills me.

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lovemedeath

15 December 2009 @ 02:49 pm

(no subject)

my last day in this worthless city that I've thrived upon and drowned in simultaneously for the past six months. My father and I gulp down southern comfort as we run errands. Our alcoholism, our inability to function; the only bond we have. I am drunk and I miss everyone. Chad's strangeness and the cold, heartless world he inhabits alone. I will miss it greatly. Matt's apologetic love and the effort he put into validating our intoxicating attachment, I miss it with ever fiber of my being. I miss hannah and I want to wrap her small, muscular frame in my arms and kiss her softly. She marveled at my kisses, we compared and contrasted our style of affection, spent hours analyzing our defectiveness. I long to eat bean burritos with her and speed around columbia recklessly, trying to find an outlet for our restlessness, a boy to impress with our obnoxious, wild ways. I feel I am saying goodbye to my hopeless freedom. Maybe I am growing or shrinking into something more human, more stable. When I am curled safely into isaac's strong arms and his endless love I will feel a pang of longing, for the months I drifted, lost throughout dallas, driving the desolate streets at 3 in the morning, sobbing for the loss of my innocence, the careless way I discarded my faithfulness, my ambition. I will find my will to keep breathing, my fidelity to the boy who loves me in such terrifying ways; but the child in me will remain here, trapped somewhere, in a strange man's house or on a street corner brimming with dark figures and brutality. I may despise this city and the suffering I've endured here, but parts of me will forever echo the loneliness of dallas.

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the_silent_army

14 December 2009 @ 01:20 am

If You Play JRPGs or WRPGs...

To whom it may concern,

I've started a community,

jrpgs_and_wrpgs, dedicated to the discussion of computer and console role-playing games, both of Japanese and Western origin. This is a really niche genre, and a lot of people who play these games prefer to play mainly these games exclusively. Due to the nature of these games, they can be quite addictive, engrossing, and the object of much obsession. Furthermore, there is no community on LiveJournal dedicated strictly to them. Almost all "RPG communities" on LiveJournal are fan fiction exercises, 'RPing,' collections of Final Fantasy icons, or general fangirl/boyism around a single franchise. There is no real discussion about these games going on, and there very well could and should be. This community is yet a seed, but if you like the idea, I encourage you to join, to encourage all your friends who would like it to join, and for all of us to contribute RPG related reading and discussion. That there is nothing like this currently on LJ is good reason that it could be successful, and it will be if we want it to be. I've been on LJ consistently since 2002, so your moderator will be here to stay, as will this community with your help. Furthermore, I can promise you that I am no control freak, will only mandate enough to keep order and productivity in the community, and will otherwise not be a tight ass, anal retentive fascist with a bunch of silly rules and a god complex. So, if you play JRPGs or WRPGs, please come on over, join, and start posting immediately about whatever RPG-related business your heart desires. I'm eager to find my peers in this.

xoxo,
Shane

(to be cross posted)

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lovemedeath

11 December 2009 @ 09:55 pm

(no subject)

Ashtray bathtub water, rum more rum, I'm scrubbing the remnants of you off of my skin. Today, pulled my sweater close to my face, inhaling your scent deeply, breathing you. I feel you. I imagine fragments of dried cum, crusting over delicately between the softness of my porcelain legs, your teeth prints, hesitant, crawling across the back my neck, almost faded, but still there, clenching paternally onto my body as though I belonged to you. I offer the keyboard, speak some falsely sweet words about wanting the kids to have it. In my mind, it's you that will come, and I'll be sad and small and beautiful, the bluish bruising beneath my eyes guaranteeing your endless love. In reality, she's coming with you. So I'll cancel and postpone until I drag this heavy body far away from you, from the tender painful existence I lead under your spell. I never kissed you goodbye. I fantasize extensively today about harming myself, and search my room like an addict, unable to find my razors. Give up and drink. I want isaac, but more than that I want to fade into nothingness. Burning, all through the wispy, translucent muscles that form my insides. I'm sitting in a cold bathtub with ashes circling my body, drifting through the water playfully, my drink is empty, I've heard this all before, I want to die, tonight, here in this dark, lonely bathroom. It is not fair, the way I love isaac, the distance, my pathetic unending sadness, the way your presence is simultaneously everything I need and not nearly enough. I shrivel into silence without you and with you I am angry, so angry. But alive, painfully, joyously breathing. I wish I had the fervored, aching passion for isaac that I have for you. I wish you would never leave me alone, never leave me. But you have, and my world shrinks down to a radiohead song on repeat and my naked soft body and nostalgia for moments that escaped me, my tragic melancholia. I am nothing, taking up too much space.

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