home equals he[ART]

Your Love is Experimental

     Waking up without you next to me is difficult, but not more difficult than I originally imagined. Surprisingly, none of this has been. For example, of course it’s difficult and of course it tugs at my heart strings to open sleepy eyes in the morning while basking in the warm sunlight to roll over and not see you smiling sweetly at me while positively glowing more radiant than any vampire ever known to romantic literature. Instead, I turn to see your coat in my arms, assuming I cuddled it throughout the entire night without once letting it go because this is not the position I fell asleep in. I smile at the vision, I must truly love you, even when unconscious, but I had no doubts or second guesses over my feelings in the beginning.

     Still grinning, I look back over to the blinds partially shielding me from the greatest star ever known—I’m humbled. I blink for a few moments through its brilliance, then reflect on how you’ve lifted me to the euphoria of feeling equal to the entity I admire most.

     Your love makes me equal however it is experimental.

hellO

    Before meeting you I felt as hollow as the “O” in God. Things were accomplished, smiles were occasionally swept across my lips, but nevertheless I wasn’t encompassing a magnificent, genuine happiness from a perfect for me outside party.

   You’ve unbelievably transformed me into feeling like the most brilliant thing sparkling in the deeply competitive sky of mankind. The “O” in you is as gold as the sun you’ve sweetly convinced me I’m in league with.

    Thank you for being the replacements for every bit of me I despise for the variety of now slain reasons. I love myself more because of you, the surplus is allowing me to love you ever more than my underestimated personal capabilities. It will never be as passionate as the love you veraciously deserve, I’m incapable of such great heights on the tightrope without you and this is the one thing you can’t help me with. Just remember that “for you, I’d have this world on its knees.”

    Finally, thank you for every fleeting thought you dance with across my mind. I love you.

Second of the Pisces

    You’ve done it and what it is I’m not entirely too sure. Quoted for truth, you’ve cracked deeper at or into my hardened posthumous shell than anyone else has, and I figured out why. For one, I finally feel I deserve to be known, and second, I discovered that you deserve to know me. The latter wasn’t accomplishable with just anyone either, you’re more special than the unrest waiting outside my ego’s doorstep. What’s harbored on your stoop, Jonathan? (“I’m a million different things, but not one you know.” – I Want To Disappear, Marilyn Manson)

    I didn’t cry at all and do you know why? I couldn’t cry, I didn’t want to. You agreed with me when I suggested that if I cried in your arms before you left I would cry as I left you in the airport, but I have a fairly strong feeling you knew I wouldn’t be shedding a tear! My deep breaths were nearly a requirement to contain the control, but the air is thin at such a great height, you only begin grasping if you allow yourself to panic. I was equipped with turning a wolf by the conquering aforementioned name, and you helped me survive the bottom. I’m not reaching for Sol or attempting to burst into a supernova just yet, but I definitely think I’ve reached some path to enlightenment within this garden at the end of the river. I hope you know that once you found your tunnel, you became the light at the end of mine.

First of the Pisces

     I highly value what I do and I was going to say I hope you notice me writing this rough draft of my love but it appears you must have already because you just kissed my cheek. Although, I half hope you hardly foresaw that this would be all about you, or anyhow, about us. In that case, it’d be like a surprise, you subliminally witnessed my work, and the less significance it holds for you in this very moment of your fingers striking the keys of your keyboard absent-minded to my withdrawals (symptoms of your love, etc.), the more significance it holds for me. The more you’ve had the more I love you, my Winston without the hill of church you reside upon, despite your name truly translating to the son of God. Son of Earth, I wonder, let us just rape this world together for a new era and become the 3rd or 4th generation sun. I meant it when I said I desired a couple of power (Pisces, power couple) If you burn I’ll burn brighter, and our first steps were on an earth quake.

Monday's Excerpts - Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

This Week's Book: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

    “Cheshire Puss,” she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider; “Come, it’s pleased so far,” thought Alice, and she went on, “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to walk from here?”
    “That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat.
    “I don’t much care where——“ said Alice.
    “Then it doesn’t matter which way you walk,” said the Cat.
    “——so long as I get somewhere,” Alice added as an explanation.
    “Oh, you’re sure to do that, said the Cat, “if you only walk long enough.”
    Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question. “What sort of people live about here?”
    “In that direction,” the Cat said, waving its right paw round “lives a Hatter; and in that direction,” waving the other paw, “lives a March Hare. Visit either you like; they’re both mad.”
    “But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked.
    “Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat; “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”
    “How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.
    “You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.” (Page 53)

—————

    The executioner’s argument was, that you couldn’t cut off a head unless there was a body to cut it off from; that he had never had to do such a thing before, and he wasn’t going to begin at his time of life.
    The King’s argument was, that anything that had a head could be beheaded, and that you weren’t to talk nonsense.
    The Queen’s Argument was, that if something wasn’t done about it in less than no time, she’d have everybody executed, all round. (It was this last remark that had made the whole party look so grave and anxious.) (Page 76)

—————

    “So you did, you know,” the Red Queen said to Alice. “Always speak the truth—think before you speak—and write it down afterward.”
    “I’m sure I didn’t mean——“ Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen interrupted her impatiently.
    “That’s just what I complain of. You should have meant! What do you suppose is the use of a child without any meaning? Even a joke should have some meaning—and a child’s more important than a joke, I hope. You couldn’t deny that, even if you tried with both hands.
    “I don’t deny things with my hands,” Alice objected.
    “Nobody said you did,” said the Red Queen. “I said you couldn’t if you tried.”
    “She’s in that state of mind,” said the White Queen, “that she wants to deny something—only she doesn’t know what to deny.”
    “A nasty, vicious temper,” the Red Queen remarked; and then there was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two.(Pages 221-222)

Books finished this past week...
None

(All title links link back to my webpages of them on Goodreads.com, a great library/reviewing/rating website for readers. Check it out, and add me as a friend if you decide to join!)

11:11

All your love is revenge, 

I’m willing to tell you everything you want to hear of me.

I Regret, I Digress

    I wouldn’t doubt that if Florida had basements, that’s where it would have all begun.
    With this sole reason in tow, I am grateful for living near a coastline for one of the few times in my life. I fear that had we lived deeper within the states, I may have never escaped the basement he constructed around me with calloused hands. I don’t think my newly sprouted wings would have been enough to break.

    If Likens’ wings couldn’t break her free of her prison after having so long to grow with such grotesque nourishment, I know with complete assurance mine never would have. Our comparisons of strength are too extreme in diversity of the American crime.
    She is the high and I am the low because she is publicized and fabricated to fascination. I wasn’t hurt badly enough to be celluloid beyond recognition. Like the death of average caucasian children making C’s and D’s, once recognized by the media she was glorified far past the typical hormonal girl that lacked the suddenly bestowed qualities recommended for sainthood.
    Likens didn’t even survive, but she was not a martyr to her crime. The idea of her is the martyrdom, and with the control I hold I can go the far distance to become an idea for necessary remembrance. Vexed victims minded.

    Remaining unnoticed by the uncaring world surrounding, I revolve. I have remained a target of disgust and disbelief amongst the jeering circus crowd of ridicule and shame despite my revolutionary act. My pain is not exaggerated nor glorified for film or song, my face is not a poster child for survival, and it never will be. I must die several times alive before I become anything memorable, save killing myself completely.

    Knit stitched into my existence, the idea of killing myself has shamelessly reared its ugly head since the day I got my wings, so obviously it might as well have very well sprouted from the back of my head shrieking.
    Before everything completely destroys me to a point of being utterly useless (it’s possible, tis true), I know that now is the time to unravel the suppressive cloth from my head before I bleed out too much.

    Now is the only time left to risk pulling the axe from its Black Lodge wedged into my skull, and hope for a miracle of survival at the end of the hospital hall lined with baker dozens of reconstructive surgeries I will undoubtedly endure for the rest of my physical, personal life.
    Regression is upon us meaning me, my time to thoroughly delve within my history once and for all. This complete exploitation of all I have suffered is my final and only hope of destroying myself over and over again for a remarkable rebirth.

    With idealized suicide in mind, this is how I got my wings.

Thursday's Thoughts: Theme: Long Distance Relationships

This Week's Theme: Long Distance Relationships

“We are the perfect couple, we’re just not in the perfect situation.” - Joey Rivett

“Distance never separates two hearts that really care, for our memories span the miles and in seconds we are there. But whenever I start feeling sad, because I miss you, I remind myself of how lucky I am to have someone so special to miss.” - Unknown

“True love doesn't mean being inseparable; it means being separated and nothing changes.” - Unknown

On Where I've Been & Where I'm Going

     I haven’t been around COSA18 as much these past few days because I’ve been so swamped with preparations for Jonathan’s arrival tomorrow. Typing this, I can hardly believe I said “tomorrow” with truth to it. It seems more unreal than his existence, what a double positive to bewilder me with.
     I’ve always thought “You could’ve knocked me over with a feather!” was a silly line that I would never utter, though now that I can relate, it doesn’t seem half bad, not half bad at all. That’s one of the many things I love most about Jonathan; somehow, beneath every horrid memory and hardening of my being, he shines light onto what I thought was lost forever, buried with the wretched until the end of my ticking clock, until my pilot light eventually did flicker out eternally into darkness. Now I love things because I love them, without rhyme or reason, whether I understand it or not. He is my science, or at least, my scientific enlightening on love and loss.
     As if magically, even the loss is positive. I wonder if anyone else grasped or even considered the possibility? Well at this point, recent events of my bidding wouldn’t have been possible without such a grandeur view of life.
     And that, he is.

The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it. John 1:5