Loss, Fury, Bile, and Mucus
Originally Uploaded here by Mai An Hoa
I saw you again, and you finally broke the record. For once, you looked unhappy, dredless, stressed, and unhealthy. I still can hardly believe that it was actually you, the weight of myth bears so heavily on my mind that my strongest impulse is to deny our moment of actual proximity as fancy in the name of a more puissant fancy. Mine, you, my perpetual unattainable fairie princess. I wanted to believe you live far away, doing awesome things, like, New York or something, some North American success story turned into an off-Broadway success. Meta-musical.
I'm being buried beneath the excess of my student loan and the litany of my own inadequacy. Comparative isn't meaningful unless you use an appropriate bar. Should I even rate my qualities that surpass others on a reasonable scale, they still sit likes ashes in my mouth, amounting to little more than shadows and dust. I feel kind of like a failure, being dragged by the chains of my own weaknesses towards wage slavery.
Sometimes, I have no sympathy for your lack of control. The appearance I cast of a controlled and intelligent and rational individual is true and accurate, but fails to convey the seas of madness that lay beneath. When I slip, it is no small thing, characterised by spasms, blood, fits of screaming, catatonia, self-mutilation, and violence. You could, in the very least, be bothered to remain reasonable in situations that simply aren't that difficult to mange. Why is it that the standards I must hold others to are so fucking pathetic.
I can't read what you write. I want to scream and cry and weep for the loss that I feel. Perhaps it is some blessing that the situation I find myself in brings me to my knees with a force greater than your absence. Most likely the greatest blessing is that you aren't really who I think you are. But, the nagging truth burns further back in my mind that this great blessing is, in fact, a lie I tell myself to keep myself sane. The benefit of circularity becomes clear here, as my situation remains. Not quite a case of misery loving company, but more that it becomes harder to concern oneself with lesser pains in the presence of greater ones.
Written On: Home Computer
Currently Listening: IAM (wiki, I'll upload some later)