I was in my own car this morning and
my hands were on the wheel and I was staring out at the road but I did not feel
like I was actually driving. However time passed and I arrived at my
destination so I must have been. Still, I felt a strange haze over
things, like my basic senses were being smudged out. A lack of
clarity is not such a bad thing I suppose. An overall diminished
capacity to feel anything must be better on some level than feeling everything
too strongly to a detrimental effect.
There is an angel dressed in
white. It’s been five years which is such an absurdly appropriate
span of time. Five years, my brain hurts a lot. It was an
accidental meeting at a time and place quite fleeting. She smiled so
wondrous and my heart was fastly beating. I loved her! I
loved her! I was too afraid to say but I loved her. Oh
how I see that time and scream in unbridled joy. There was food on
the table and doppelgangers abound. However I soon came to realize
this was not some genetically perfect clone but an actual heaven sent power of
body and mind. This was beauty and intelligence and such exquisite
fabric. Good gravy how I longed for her. I tell myself not to
be so honest and I buy my suits at the thrift store by the pound. She
made me wax poetic before destroying my fragile ego. I sacrificed all professional ethics and was
all too happy to do so. I climbed walls
and drank tea at parties with madmen all in the name of her.
I was like a child following you
around and I laughed at all your jokes. And I knew we were
compatible, you were the egg whites to my yokes! See, the poetry
just flows out of me now because of her! Words truly cannot express
how much I hate myself. If I just sit down and let my fingers do the
talking they peck out thousands upon thousands of self-loathing sentiments and
rightfully so because I am an impossibly ugly and worthless individual. I
now always hear a rich and wonderful melody when I picture her face. I
know that I will be calling to mind her smile and hearing her song for the rest
of my life. This gives me great comfort. In my most
tortuous moments I think of you and I am feeling fine.
The morning was pure shit as
always. I saw you enter the room and in that moment all the awful
and meaningless garbage which I’ve allowed to run rampant in my life ceased to
matter. There were zombies all around us but they did not approach
you. Were they somehow afraid, I wonder? With a snap of
your fingers you made them all go away.
As Adler’s words echoed through my
brain I was entranced by another. Even after all the cigarettes and
booze and all the leads the private eye was able to track down he never could
have predicted who walked through the doors on that particular day. Was
murder still being considered art? The death of the last
century certainly could not have come at a finer moment. In the end
all was well. He received his payment. The mystery may
never be entirely solved and it may haunt my brain for the rest of my days but
I at least I still met her. Oh that day when I met Ramona.
In my dreams I was lost in a world
of black and orange. And what a sweet new heaven I discovered. Was
I thrust somewhere onto a bed of flowers which stretched out into
eternity? There were millions of bottles lined up with brightly
colored liquids, perfumes crafted by the gods themselves. All this
put my body in a state of shock and ecstasy. I closed my eyes and
let this wash over me. My nerves were connected to live wires. “Because
I bathed this morning.” That is what you said. But the
language was decidedly not of this world. You created machines and
their mechanics generated music. Hand on my neck and then pain is
inflicted on me. Something made of cotton or silk is stuffed inside
my mouth to prevent me from crying out. Oh such thrills. My
tongue tastes sweetness. There is metal kissing my lips. Then
I am on my back. There are no words which can accurately describe
the exquisiteness. What a furious day you had running to and fro, up
and down, back and forth and all in those glorious black high heeled shoes and
the oh so appropriate office garb. Please let me inside so I can
fully appreciate the thoroughness of your work. I am a beggar. She
gives me a thousand lashes and I hear a saxophone in the background.
You put something inside my head
which makes it pulse and throb and I am unable to think clearly and words do
not come easy. How could such beauty be so close? Someone
out there is telling lies at more than a thousand miles an hour. My
life is only the accumulation of so many days in which I have utterly failed
you. There was a white mask and I stared into the eyes which were
behind it. They made me feel joyous for the return because I finally
realized the full depth of what was previously lost. They were all
also frightening and I wondered about all the hidden thoughts and all the
darkness contained behind the stark white. I do not know how many
years are left and it is not a question I like to ponder. I think of
us meeting somewhere at a department store here in Manhattan, maybe a mid-level
floor with nearby escalators going up and down. For some reason I
picture it in the jewelry department. Our eyes meet and the moment
of recognition is a sweet shock. Then I tell you everything.
I see so much joy looking through
your eyes.
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