Like fucking a girl and telling her you don't want to fuck her anymore but letting her get your mail or let her hang around your house and suck you off from time to time and day to day, it's unhealthy and unbecoming and it's what my life feels like right now. The world is trying to suck my cock and I'm letting it, have to let it because I can't pull my calendar fast enough, can't come to terms and accept stillness here, in London, as we're thawing out and the world is supposed to be coming alive again, as I am supposed to be coming alive again. Every face I have to face and every word I'm forced to spit feels forced and unnecessarry and for everyone but not for me, nothing for me anymore, nothing satisfying me anymore. I need to move out and away and it's a good fucking thing I am...because I don't know what I would do if I weren't. There are necessities in my life that I absolutely must see through, and when this trip and this departure arrived in my mind, I had to do everything in my power to let it line, to make certain it would line for Burn. We have accepted our pulls in this world, and that this one is heavy and still 9 days from ripe. I talked to Burn yesterday and he is my echo. He may be even worse off than I am - the kid is struggling, fucking struggling and he still has a face to paint and I don't envy him, his everyday day to day when I can sit here and get blasted and ignore and shut out and shut away and he needs to remain present and available. He can't stand being available - he is the most shut away motherfucker I have ever known, so if you know him as anything other than that - he's been lying to you - everything he has ever been to you has been a lie, a huge fucking lie. Go ahead, chew on that. By the time you're ready to spit, maybe you're big enough to understand it's exactly truth. But you're not. So you'll pretend to understand and won't because you can't. Because you're not capable. Incapable. Exactly.
London town. London. I'm going to take some drugs and walk around and take it all in, maybe say goodbye. Because it's necessary. Because I'm going to continue to not only speak for myself, but also my friend Burn...
Because we're tired of dipping, and hosting, and pulling along and willing acceptance from the world for the forms of our expression. Because sometimes when we think about it, we think the worst thing in the world might be to get exactly what we think we want, what we thought we wanted. Because if someone ever came up to me and told me they knew me or that I connected to them because of what I wrote in my book, I'm pretty fucking certain I'd find a clever way to make someone kill me.
Because Burn will never say the things that need to be said. Once we go, we're gone. Never coming back.
No comments:
Post a Comment