Shunshine. That is what we are all looking for.
It was such a perfect word I very nearly exploded when I heard it for the first
time. I am so very impure; I cannot deny that for a millisecond. I
suppose it all does come down to mathematics in the end. What would we do
without Professor Ackeret? What is this thing I see spreading out all
over the cities? The crazy planet, the cosmic and the concept of
zero. Then the inevitable spasms were terrifying and yet I’d never felt
such clarity before. It washed over me in an awesome wave.
She showed him the little scraps of paper and at that precise moment he realized she is in fact blissfully deliriously insane and really, can there be anything greater than that? What are these five mystical language which you practice day in and day out (underrated)? Don’t forget the little smiley face with the tongue sticking out lurking there in the corner. Heaven sent. Perfume. On my knees. He is being forced to kiss. And there is laughter and mockery and joy. There is perfume everywhere. This is part of something. But she is whole. Can you not get that through your extra thick skull? Ecstasy in nylons.
Did you experience jealousy of a construction worker? That jacket was quite florescent wasn’t it? Her honeyed words are not reserved only for you my friend. There is no such thing as deserve. I rather love the elaborate fantasies which we construct to push ourselves through our miserable lives.
You hid her phone. Dude. There was such a wonderful wince. Or was it a cringe? No, neither of those is accurate in the least. But it was a search most spectacular and in the end the word roommate appeared in quotation marks. There was discover, everything through the glass. Very pink. Really pink. Totally pink. Everything pink. Fuck, what the fuck was it? Never that type of language in her presence but what the fuck was it? This must be a result of the gas covering all the cities. The pyramids. The human servitude and the homeless monkey. They left markers and sign posts. They would return one day when that mathematics had properly caught up. Yes, it was pink all over and wonderful and someone’s face was turning red. Rhinoceros. Does she know? She has to know. She knows, she knows, she knows. Does it make you feel good? There is hope that it is so. You called him on it. You said it was turning red. Buenas dias Senor Sol.
I know friendship is not a possibility. I imagine that makes you feel very comforted which in itself is a wonderful thing. Still, what if we met on that train and there was a fifth round knockout (you know what I’m saying? Maybe it’s fourth). I’d like to think you would understand and see something worthy inside.
He’s kinda weird right. doesn’t like them to talk too much. But it still happened anyway. Promises switched hands. This is sin and awfulness and he says he is sorry but is he really? He is the only one to blame in any of this. But the sky was so blue and the world felt so beautiful in that particular moment. There are no speech problems whatsoever, please don’t say that. Five. What a great and ambitious number. Please go back one day. Fulfill everything. White on black and always so exquisite. It is death by aromatic orgasm every time she is moving through this proximity.
He must be rather terrified to enter the void where one’s mind’s eye can see what lies beyond. We are constructing an inner sanctum of rebirth and very soon we are going to sing songs of national pride and then engage in acts of dance and cannibalism in equal measure.
It all goes back in time and these moments are relived again and again and they are never anything less than perfect. That was a time of no codes. And there are bleach blondes but that’s not entirely true because a soccer player inquired to the true color and the naturalness was revealed. And then there were later connections or maybe this happened before but who really gives a flying fuck, am I right?! But then, no, saw for the very first time in orange with a long gone best friend. Delicious. That was the word you used. I can see why. Was peanut butter the code word(s)? I guess there were codes back then after all but only the one. And then afterward she left earlier before dessert and it was the very first time (I think, when did the angel who loves torture come into play? The hug. I am so wrong and so sorry for everything. that hug was everything but I am so so sorry for my existence. Please forgive me everyone but especially you know who you all are. Met at a potluck. I’m sorry. The spring dress. The articles and confessions and everything meaningless because it comes from me. Please I am so very very sorry!). But that first time set the stage for everything and please forgive the endless longings and the appropriately interrupted communication. And then it just came back again. Each revelation brings joy. This is the affect. Effect. Red again. all pink. That was your own personal touch and it was divine. His feelings are so wrong. Please never stop being lovely.
There was bemused concern there at the end. Reminding him so much of another. One obsession begets another. I can’t talk. And then always a smile. I can’t talk and then there is a smile. I am the goddess. I think a spiritual animal (maybe a tiger) quoted that to me, talking about the very first time. I am wrong in everything.
I saw that one movie the other day. Snikt! It gave me tears. And then…the flesh. Touch of blue.
I listened to the album Station to Station today. First in my car and then again in my posh flat. What comfort it gave me! So hologramic. And love, thy will be done. This comforted me as well.
Shunshine. That’s how it begins and just perhaps that is how it ends. Though deep inside I somehow doubt it. Of course, I think as my head goes light, how utterly improper. Eleven seemed appropriate. I’m sorry again to everyone but most of all to you know who you are. Especially. He hates himself. I hate myself. But I love you.
