12:07 a.m. - 2004-08-12
This night never has to end
Dear friend,
I start these conversations and I run into fire just to see if I can stand the heat and I think that if I ignore the pain, then it will go away, but then I'm standing there, stuck in this body that will never look the same- it will always be scarred. You are always my addiction- you are what I latch onto, despite the damage you do. If I were a cutter, you'd be my razor, an alcoholic- my drink of choice. You're my very favorite drug and if you'll be my heroin, then I'll always call you dandelion. This is no happy ending coincidence. I do these things to prove I can and to hurt myself. I am testing myself- seeing how much I can take. I always wanted the violin, but at the same time I was famous for firing the player. I'd give you a penny, but what I got would have me paying you to leave. I'd run away myself, but I can't find the energy to stand. It seems my limbs have betrayed me and my mind has won this battle. I was at a disadvantage- slumber conquers all. If I'm diving off cliffs it's because you had placed me on a pedestal and the pressure of the altitude was just too much. I'm not blinded yet. I know how bright the sun is. I just so happen to have lost my only pair of sunglasses and I'm beginning to think that you borrowed them and never gave them back. My eyes are shaded by confusion and so everything is blurred and trying to focus requires limbs and energy that don't come included with this out of fashion camera. Could it be that I'm back in style or could it be that I never was and now I'm just grateful? These games make me tired. These three-footed races are dragging me down. I'm no good at relays and the next mile you make me run will be my last. This is the movie. You're leaving now? don't you want to see the end? She doesn't die you know. She isn't saved either. The director wants you to make up your own ending, so she is left there in the middle of the street and the car keeps speeding along and then it's all black. You decide. Does she live? Does the car see her and stop? Or does she die? I guess I'll never know. Our communication is strained. We stopped wanting to be each other. We stopped our jealous acts of flattery. What are we now? What do I do with your pcitures? What if I can't move? I can't move. If you take a fish out of water and you watch it long enough, it will eventually stop moving. I guess you get to decide if it's dead or not. I guess you get decide to accept things or live in denial. I guess you always have a choice. Don't worry, I know you'll pick whatever is best for you. You're good at that. Actually, maybe you're not. It doesn't matter. I ripped off the training wheels because for some reason I had faith in you and I broke your camera because I wanted you to be here now and when you came to me crying that your arm was broken I gave you a band-aid and told you to see it and remember it and do it again. At least you're living. At least you have battle scars and war stories. At least you're here now. If I told you who you were then you wouldn't believe me. You don't think you're really there. You don't beleive in yourself enough to care. You don't care about me and I don't care about you. How's it feel to be you? Wonderful. I feel wonderful. I'm always here to take your blame, but i can't promise I'll care after you blame me enough. I will become numb to everything you say eventually because I'm going to live forever and in comparison to that, right now seems so unimportant and I don't see the point and trying to move. I could bow down to the day and the night and the month and the year, but when my knees got scraped i'd have to go through the trouble of cleaning up my own blood- so not to stain your pretty new dress. I'm so pituresque and deep and modern and ridiculous and forever and stuck in the past. I'm so...I'm so....I'm ...just..everything I'll ever want to be. Now, that's impressive. I feel bad for you because you'll never be as happy as I am. Eveytime a tear drops, I hope you fucking smile. You'll still never be as happy as me.
Sincerely,
A blunt view for a pointed knife.
