Monday, February 29, 2016

warm up.

heathcliff, as usual.

love. it is not you i love. we both know by now we cannot extend ourselves any further than we are. it is the feelings that arise in myself as a reception for your presence giving itself to me. it is your image that is everywhere, hanging off of houses hanging off of low branches. the music sets a delicate and haunted expression. i am haunted by my feelings and the image again.
as a young boy my father rejected my sex. it does not bother me so much anymore- i am much older now. "it was the right thing to do," although he rejected me because i was sad, and clumsy at concealing it, he would go on to tell me i was an insincere person. father's lack of interest in me, paralleling my lack of interest in myself- this is where abandonment began. i would never learn how to turn against it. i needed to be given a feeling, any feeling that i wanted like a spoiled girl with simplistic views.

since a dream was crushed, i was never to dream again.

so, cathy, no, my father never laid a finger on me, never molested me. he was the one that rejected my advances very easily is what happened. he did it as though i was easy to decline, undesirable. my father was never going to give me the feeling i seemed to need from him.
thus, there's an emptiness that stays with me at all times, unstirred. i was never to find my father again, to seek the feeling i need from him.
sometimes i am not feeling capable to make strong choices, cathy, and i am certain nobody will give me anything i want.


i was resisting, i learned as i was uncovering acceptance, i was resisting admitting i needed to persuade my father into giving me back an imagine of myself held prior.
i asked you to teach me about romanticism- do you know why? because i had not idea what love was supposed to be and i still don't, though you can be sure i guess anyway. isn't that sweet?
i don't have any goals isn't that tender? i drive around aimlessly. i've gotten lost from doing so so many times that i have the houses of all of the world memorized. this is how i practice promiscuity.
some times i think i'll get people to truly love me if i suddenly disappear - no, i must resist thinking this way. i'm thinking evil thoughts.
listen, heathcliff, when we first met, do you remember how charmed you were by my "charisma"? i have deceived you. i was high. i've been high this whole time, you might wish to learn before it continues. without my being high, i'd be too shy to exude a charisma. i must get high for you to love me.
this whole time i've had a habit, and nothing has come about it- no revealing. heathcliff without the habit, i have no chance at experiencing happiness, i cannot meet people- i would look at my feet without realizing it.

i don't care if you forgive me or not. i don't so much care for forgiveness