Sensations were writhing and dancing and their orgasmic
cries echoed through the halls. A
mingling of colors formed two – no, three – perfect composites. Pink and black, everything started with those
two. There were other colors previously
and I remember them with great clarity, there was white, orange, green and
red. They were wonderful; each sparkled
in their own way. The palette of the
three is rich and glorious and picturing this in my head causes all my muscles
to flex and tense beginning at my calves and traveling to my fingers and jaw. Yet
it was the pink and black this time and such a joyous mingling. Pink with such obvious connotations but the
electric pull was anything but common.
Even the shade – if that is even the right word – was something deeper
than expected, outside the normal parameters.
Please forgive my endless longing.
I have heard those words before, from a voice so beautiful it had to
come from the outer interstellar expanses which it described. Those words became an exchange across our
hearts and across all time and space and I uttered them myself a thousand times
afterward and I thanked her for giving them to me. She is always female during the day but at
night I am not quite sure. But the pink…how
generous the color is as it slides down, not stopping until it reaches the
wrists, this is not something I see anywhere else. Please forgive me and do not look too long
into my eyes, they hide things I would never want you to see. But this color is surrounded by black and
somehow the black is the best thing. It is
the color of coal or ink and it curves and curves and is supple and wonderful
but it also blows in the wind and caresses softly and cascades down in
waves. I imagine myself drowning inside
of it where mysterious words which I do not understand ring out in honeyed
voices and otherworldly perfumes come to fill my remaining senses as a glorious
finality takes hold. Such tenderness, I plead
for all your pardons and I beg you not to look inside. One single touch destroys me – the very first
and very last time – as these colors mix and coalesce and there is such softness. My back arches and fingers interlock. Memories and dreams crash along endless
shores and we are pulled through space and into castles made of ice. I have just begun to dream.
I am always trapped inside my own disgusting body and sometimes
I pound my fists into the walls or into my own face and I scream as loud and as
hard as I can until it feels as though my throat is ripping apart. I shower once every hour on the hour while the
movie Blue Velvet plays on a continuous loop in the background. My skin never appears anything less than
repulsive and I frequently take furtive glances at the knife by bed and
consider using it to obtain some relief but I have not done so yet.
I remember not long ago sitting on the sofa and she was
sitting right next to me and we were watching a movie which I had seen before
but she had not. The room was dark aside
from the light provided by the television.
There were empty beer bottles on the window sill and empty wine bottles
on the little table next to the sofa. Sitting
there I recalled asking someone the same question on different nights regarding
how many sleeping pills they had taken. My
voice was always panicked in those instances.
But sitting on the sofa I was no longer able to fully understand my
panic. The images on the television
ceased to make any sense to me. People and
objects were interchangeable, words became meaningless sounds. The constructs of the room began to disappear
and the bottles were not a recent memory but something completely abstract with
no associations I could understand. I still
comprehended her at my side and I was filled with a harsh despair which was
somehow so powerful it brought forth pain in my chest and head. I took off my glasses and tears streamed down
my face. We moved together and as she
held me tight I was somehow able to find the words and I simply told her “nothing
has any meaning”. I do not remember what
happened after that.
Ultraviolet by U2 is such an absolutely perfect gorgeous
song from one of the bestiest albums of all time. Playing the bassline for that song is deeply
fulfilling and brings me some weird sense of peace. Achtung Baby by U2 and Pies Descalzos by
Shakira are the two albums that mostly perfectly and purely express love and
all its complex parts to me.
You are returning to me and I want to cry. I cannot remain still for even one moment but
I know you understand me like no one else does and it fills me with comfort
knowing you have returned. I will be
able to lay on my bed in the dark and not feel terrified, at least for a while. All these abstractions and harmonies, somehow
they all come together. I feel her
presence throughout the day and everything is better. What am I allowed to feel and what am I allowed
to think? Everything is always so much
more comfortable when on my knees. I could
not identify the sound but I knew it would stay with me for as long as I lived. My doubts are answered every time I hear the
voices or see the faces. It’s impossible
to give myself over to such beauty and not be redeemed. I realize I will never solve the mysteries
and I am not meant to know what any of these visions mean. They come to me and kiss my forward and
cradle me in their hands. My face is
against the awakening and I drink and I bathe and I am cleansed.
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