That is all.

I reread what I wrote you. It was surprisingly cogent, if perhaps a little repetitive and verbose. I guess I fear being misunderstood. I reread what you wrote me, and some questions/comments ring true still. I'm not sure why I reconnect with you, I think it may be really unhealthy. But I love you still, and I do not think that can be helped. I'm terrified of not meeting someone else who matters to me as much as you do.

There is more.

My life is good. This is hardly a tragedy. It is a funeral for only an idea, for nothing and no one.


Nothing.

And no one.

Currently Listening: Burman - Take Me Away (listen)

Whisky, oh, yes, whisky.

Currently Listening: Wendy McNeil - The Sad Sssad Story of Rosa Rabbit and Sasha Snake (download)

I'm craving oblivion very hard right now. Soft wafting undulations, like at a club when you're almost too drunk to be aware. I want bass cannons and obliteration; warm folds of nothingness, bending in on myself. When the sound almost moves to deafen you like the silence of a snowstorm, collapsing in on itself.

Like a star.

Maybe this is what it feels like to get better, like the itching of a wound. I'm flush, feverish, [I remember this feeling] like there are fingers under my skin pulling at my bones [I remember this feeling]. Maybe.

I suppose that's an improvement.

Currently Listening: Rustie - After Light (listen)

I was guilty of projecting our past onto our future. It seemed so simple: you seemed like all the rest. An other piece of an elaborate porcelain collection. Precious, but constructed in such a way that our gears didn't match. It was true before.

I believed this myth because it was consistent, because it was easy. I had done so because I didn't want to mess anything up. I still do so because I don't want to mess anything up. I'm doing so because it doesn't make sense.

But I feel you in my bones. I know I'm not supposed to. I have been so focused on base physicality, I had practically given up on real intimacy. Dance as a metaphor falls so flat as to be laughable. It doesn't do it justice. Straining against each other, you tuned me like someone might tune a cello: bent and pulled but not broken. Together we would sing, not like humans, but like so much bone and guts. A fragile balance snapping and music.

You listen like no one I have ever met. You listen with your flesh.

Maybe you'll come out in the salt.

At least I can write again. I wish I could start drinking again.

Sleep will have to do.

I need sleep.

Currently Listening: Tegan & Sara - Feel It In My Bones (listen)

I am very lonely.

I worry sometimes that I've run out of beautiful things to say.

Of course it's not going anywhere, she invited me out to see The Black Heart Procession.

But, really, I can't say no.

Seriously.

Currently Listening: Chelsea Wolfe - Mer (listen)

I wish I didn't care.

Yeah, it hurts. But mostly I don't even know how to feel.

Currently Listening: The Pack a.d. - Crazy (listen)

But I don’t. Our relationship was a mess because you never knew if you actually wanted me there. I’m not sure we ever went even two months without breaking up. There is nothing there to want to return to.

I’m not sure what precisely is so undesirable about me, but I would rather consider my loneliness than spend my life chasing people who don’t want me.

Currently Listening: The Pack a.d. - BC is on fire (listen)