Skip to main content

Ugly recoil

It is not something I expected wholeheartedly. It hurts like hell and it makes my thoughts go in all directions. You can say I am in a process of withdrawal. Love withdrawal, you might say, cheesy as it awfully sounds. I know time will heal it, but it still fucks me up big time. I can’t even think straight. It’s always bugging me, annoying me, pissing me off wherever I go, whenever it wants to attack. The only safe bet to avoid this is sleep but I can’t even sleep. My face is always on Facebook chat, hoping, waiting, knocking on wood something miraculous would happen. Sometimes something does happen, but more often than not there really is nothing there. Like a blank state of melancholy, chewing away at my insecurities and heartaches. I go home and eat and pretend nothing bad happened and sometimes I wank, hard as I might to avoid it, but still nothing eases this unlawfully accepted state. I tried for an alternative. Maybe I do need an alternative. But hard too as I might, it’s another long way to go, much harder in required effort and the ACTING! I dread the ACTING! Everything but the ACTING! For fuck’s sake, that’s the worst part of all.

Popular posts from this blog

Unprayer

Dark, darker, darkest, there is no difference. All hurts the same. Pain, everlasting, lingering. Pain, day and night. The hours are uncertain. Anything can happen now. Thinking about it hurts. Truth is unreliable. The romance is dead. My heart, it is lost. Unrecoverable, hateful, distrusting. Wishful, perhaps, but I have lost everything before and survived still. This one was special. So special. Embittered, the tip of my tongue tastes. The flavour of my life. Cuisine of kitchens unwanted. It burns, to the heart. I do not understand. I do not understand.

Me: Things that have happened to other people are happening in mine, the worst truly has come and not a moment too soon

My important wishes always happen to fall on deaf ears, and now something really, really bad (that has already happened before) is happening to me again. Beneath all the charade of misleading coulrotic bliss is a sad sap of a man merely wanting a bit of trust from everyone around him. Yesterday's news was Mioseon all over again, and it has drained me of all strength. The worst really has come, and heaven knows I'm miserable now.
So it goes without saying that the biggest tragedy I have ever undergone in my life is fighting for the life of my child whose face I will never see. The most perplexing event was having to beg over and over unknowingly oblivious to the fact that my words carry no weight at all. Mioseon had trapped me into a corner and made me complicit to a sin I tried very hard to disavow. Regardless, she had found a way, and judging from that experience, Miriam herself will submit me to the same torture all over again, guilty by association.
For some reason this wa…

Me: At ease, the worst of the worst has yet to come

The wind was cold today, a Sunday, a proper start to September. We are within these months again. The road to the end of a very short year. A year for me where very little was accomplished. At the very least, compared to the previous one, this was a surprise blessing. Not without its challenges. Not without its pains.
Miriam went to work an hour ago. We left each other at Starbucks after a mild break. I was trying to help her with the buses. She never seems to catch on with the intricacies of the public transportation. I let her know that the easiest (not necessarily the fastest) way to work is to take the 260 bus from across the street in our new place in East Acton and stop at the underground station in Shepherds Bush. From there, she can then take bus 94 going to Piccadilly Circus where she can easily walk to her workplace in Soho in about five minutes or so.
She begged me to join her. I was still groggy and asleep at two in the afternoon. That seems to be our common waking up pat…