Saturday, March 19, 2005 // 10:59 PM
yesterday's table (heavily guarded)
(4.10 am, 19th March 05)
how much have you bothered me. it is three a m and i am staring at blackness on my bed. it is four a m and nothing has changed. i am scribbling furiously over junk-mail envelopes (which appear to be my weapon of choice), i am once again up and restless. i am filling my room up again with a blueberry smoke, i am sitting in the dark with this one burning point in my hand, a pile of ash scorched into my table. i have left my burning point in the darkness to come to my computer where i am going to try to flush things out, out of my head, so that sleep or some sort of stillness can take its place. i am playing electric soft parade on the stereo, do you and i see it the same way, i think about it everyday. i think about it every day.
to a different song i think about crying. it does not happen, i am not surprised. i am not sad in the sense of the word, i am borderline feeling lousy, i am slight of disgust, slight of contempt, slight of disappointment. in the same time astounded by my own neurosis, but this i am not disappointed by, in fact, this is the badge i wield against association with you. the essence of a misfit who does not want any place in society.
what it takes to feel. what does it take to be alone. so completely disillusioned with the state of society, the individual and how it crumbles, under a peer's casual but menacing eye. i am disillusioned with society, Society. because i feel like i am the only one for whom this much is not honest enough. not honest enough. am i too unrestrained, too irreverant of Society and it's unwritten rules and the given connotations, expectations. am i too close to the surface? in saying these things, of course i mean, relative to you. i am not ashamed of myself, i am not even thinking of changing myself. how can you take this, i am dying to bare my soul. this is my heart on this given sleeve, take it and add it to your. disorganized canvas. give me something in reverse. let us immortalize each other, let us immortalize the experience, like in drama, like in Real Living, as far as i am concerned. how can you take this, this lack of poetry in everyday, this lack of scathing, searing honesty. like every conversation ought break your heart. it is three a m and i cannot sleep, it is four a m and i am constipated, disappointed. now i see you are moving slowly as under water, you are sluggishly guarded, your skin is made of a material ten times thicker and ten times more opaque than mine. can you take this, will you berate my naivete. will you call this weirdness, weakness. instead you are a collection of witty remarks, completely void of. some sort of relavance, some sort of importance. you are a list, a stock take. to have been a counterfeit of a loner. you can take all this. where no slits are being wrenched open, no breathtaking discoveries made. kill me, this is made of so much effort. i dont want to offend you. but your society is all at once unnatural, it bores me, it pains me to be part of it, because if you take the Honesty divided by the Time Spent Together, the ratio is the same as Small Talk. Small Talk. where we fail to truly say anything, where we merely skim the surface. barely skim the surface.
i have two explanations for this. i am upset over the notion, all over again, of a loyalty divorced and a loyalty forever out of reach. secondly i am tired, i am tired from hollow laughter, from a disassociation of cultural references, a mismatch of wavelength. that is what i think it is, that is what i am talking about.
this is honesty i am talking about. let me scare you into complete submission.