Monday, December 20, 2010

DRACULA

Today, the truth awoke me
like a tambourine smashing into the side of my face,
but my face was numb.
I'd realized this awakening had been anything but rude.
The aching that I felt, the constant displeasure which rang into my ears
like that fucking song that won't stop playing
on every radio station, and every stupid fucking car
insists upon blasting it, since that'd be the only opportunity I'd have to hear it,
since I don't own a car, nor know how to
drive
nor, care for the goddamn brainwashing, monotone, and thoughtless lyrics which resonate
from each dumb radio station,
anyway.

Well, someone finally shut that noise off.
Clear-headed, peaceful, and quiet -
the emptiness poured into each orifice of my lifeless body.
The silence rained over me soft and heavy like snow.
I mean, it had to be snow,
because my hands and feet were cold enough to turn my tears into ice.

Not that the crying struck me as strange,
I'm fairly certain an emotional outpour and overall loss of control are standard responses to such a
life-changing event.

The sun and moon had vanished and the world appeared void of color.
The streets were somehow empty and the cars were empty too.
Nowhere was there any sign that I had company,
and nobody would want to join me,
anyway.

I'm harsh, freezing, and unpleasant -
but this you already knew.

So, I woke up because the overwhelming silence was too much.
Only in a divine quiet like this can you hear your thoughts thundering ever so loudly,
and I've struggled with my longing,
unbreakable desire,
to escape the noise within my mind.

But, I guess the ultimate task was just to listen,
and listen,
carefully.

The thoughts echoed, screamed, and even stuttered,
sang, whispered, and grunted,
endlessly, and continuously.
Perhaps they all were the voices of ghosts
who've longed to wake me up from my seemingly never-ending slumber.

Oh, perhaps..

Perhaps, not.

Today, the truth revealed itself,
as honest as can be.
And I found myself trapped and cold,
trapped and cold,
alone.

I wandered through this empty world, cold and wet, to boot!
I wandered wearing nothing more, since I now hated all I owned.
Nothing made much sense anymore, also.
Why would I wear a sock, or a delicate coat of mascara?
When the streets were swarmed with emptiness,
and ghosts inside my head.

Everything was ugly, and I couldn't feel the wind.
There wasn't anyone to speak to, so my empty words
became replaced
with empty stares.

The words I longed to speak, however,
sloshed around my mouth fiercely,
and tickled my tongue,
as if these words were mouthwash,
cleaning the crevices of my teeth and gums.

I walked into the church and I wondered why it remained
the only lit establishment as far as my eye could see.
I sat down and I waited
for days, and months,
but seconds are all that passed.

I thought, but then my thoughts, they screamed
so I decided to shut the fuck up.
The truth atleast would set me free,
but it caged me once again.
I knew that this was not a dream,
and I wasn't asleep inside my bed.

I stepped deeper into the holy floor,
and felt my footprints sink in.
As if the floor were made of clay, or playdoh,
my existence here was real.
The ground was soft and entrapping,
but I did not let it stop me.

If the truth had wanted to meet me,
then the truth would have its way.

In front of me, my eyes they teared, but froze immediately on my skin.
I felt this jolt within my spine, my body was wearing thin.
I persisted moving, slowly, yet firmly,
and licked my sticky cold lips.

I looked, I saw,
I noticed...
this shiny, black, smooth,
casket.

Now my body swayed towards it.
Now I could not turn around.
I wished that I was still dreaming.
I wished for lies again.

The truth was in that casket,
the truth was mocking me.

I peered inside that casket,
the air grew muskier with a bitter fog.

The taste caused my mouth to salivate,
I felt I had to puke.

For, joy had overcome me.
I was finally at one with the truth.
I looked inside that godly casket,
and inside was but a mirror.

The truth was firmly implanted in
the ridges of my brain...
the delicious ridges which I longed to
devour,
piece, by fleshy
peace.

LOVE IS A COMPROMISE.

but I can't compromise with that.
when, to you, love is a verb.

and, yet, to me it's a euphemism

for lust.

and if the dictionaries to which we define our versions of love vary, does love stand a chance or is it a mere convenience for us to blindly agree to disagree for the sake of our seemingly infinite moments of intoxicating, elevating, and interconnecting intimacy and romance which makes two become one?

would you say that compromise, or change, is the price of love?

& is this a discount, deal or bargain?

or, are we losing ourselves in the process of partaking in this highly overrated, societal past-time called love?

are we so desperate to acquire this deemed "necessary" essential function of life called "love," (the intimacy and procreation) that we compromise our entire beings and lose our individuality to which, and only through which, we identify our true selves and obtain a grander degree of self-worth?

or, has love broken down our self-attributed, self-developed foundations of self-identity on purpose and for the purpose of finding a deeper and more impenetrable degree of self-value which can only be acquired through seeing oneself through the eyes of that person who loves us?

do I love myself more because you love me?

or have I created for myself this, distinct character - built upon your desires and, molded according to your character... and has this ultimate newly developed character of mine..well, has it become the real me or the modified version of me? and can I truly say I love myself more after I've changed? is it really me that I love? or do I love the me that I've become because of your love? do I only love me because you love me?

do we really have to change ourselves so that we can love each other, or accept one each other's love as true? are we not allowed to love differently? and if the prospect of separate perspectives of love risks the possibility of miscommunication and overall a disconnection between two lovers, well, is love truly worth the selfless sacrifice of individual identity? and when does constant compromise and change become tedious and exhausting? when does changing oneself stop making a difference, or when does the difficulty in the grueling effort of changing oneself surpass the motivation to change? and when this occurs, when love once seemed worth the death of who you are, is it even worth changing ourselves for love? when love itself is void of the guarantee of "forever?"
and can the person to whom change is uncharacteristic ever truly accommodate to this price of modification in exchange for true love? what if you can't respectfully change yourself?is it really love if a change must be in order anyway?
is love a mere convenience for you, because it's a swift, smooth and simple change for you, anyway? because your questions are minimal and your thoughtless acceptance is great and greatly increasing..

or are we just plain different and no degree of love can ignite a synthetic change strong enough to sustain a relationship?

or...

am I just ruining this for myself? am I questioning this thing I should appreciate because I refuse to make a compromise which may or may not jeopardize the epitome of who I am and what I believe in? is change such an issue when it's for the sake of something as magical and irreplaceable as love? is merely saying "the price of love is too high for me and too much of a constraint for me, because I'm unstable, unstructured, and complicated" enough? do my consistent and unrelenting questions make me such a complicated individual?

you say complicated...
I say *divinely intricate*

to me, love is the question
to you, love is the answer
within me, love is digression - 
from the old me, faster and faster...

if the proper functioning of love requires the compromise of an entire being, how can love and its lack of guarantee, be worth such a change?

"Within you, I lose myself
Without you, I find myself
wanting to be lost again..."

- ?