I spy
my website is good for me. it's cathartic to the max, to be honest...something about the confessional aspect of it...like...I humble my ego when I "publically" admit the dumb shit I do on occassion; I rejoice in communion with those that take the time to read when I share my joy. most of the time I pretend like I'm writing a letter to a friend who knows me mad well...the kind of friend who let's me rant and rave and bitch and wax stupidity and go on and on til I feel better then holds the kleenix when I blow my nose an shit. I don't regret shit I've said or done on my site, not even shit that isolated me from certain members of my family for a time. and I don't regret writing about how my soulmate tore my heart out my chest like it was his fucking job...I only decided to write about it publically after HE did...but ya know what? don't use my pain and my need to reflect and pontificate as fodder for your own agenda or your mindless i-net entertainment or anythin else past my opportunity to write out my anger, shake it all off, and begin new.
ugh I fuckin abhor writing about i-net shit, this has always been about my life, the tangible one that breathes and embodies all six senses...feel like I'm slumming explaining myself to a bunch of i-net motherfuckers. no offense. I really honestly like some of yall.
the hardest part of any part of what I feel right now is that I love my nigga...I loved him before I met him. I want him to ache like I do but it hurts me to do and see it...thus is the quandry...the punishment should fit the crime...and he didn't fuck nobody...so I wonder when what I'm doing to him (remember that part in "boomerang"?) will be enough. he didn't leave me buried under the court of public opinion when I hurt him...but the court of smuts-who-just-told-him-what-he-wanted-to-hear a.k.a. the court of smuts-who-have-become-the-so-called-thorn-in-the-christopher-and-huny-show tried to mud stomp me six feet under for sure. now he'd rather spit on you I think he oh so eloquently said...too bad so sad...running up in his job mad an shit...
a long time ago he told me to draw him a phoenix so he could get it tattooed on his back. uh, if you're not up on your egyptian mythology...the phoenix was a bird that sacrificed itself to a fire of it's own making only to rise anew and replensished from the ashes to live a new life. basically. I can't even speak on how metaphorically relevant that is right now and I don't think I gotta hold your hand and walk you through why. so...this man and I have made each other suffer and cry, we have had wars both public and private over the years, but dammit, when it's good it's so good I can't see or think past his fuckin perfections or stop my skin sizzling when he touches me, and we build so lovely and sex so spectacular. if the intensity of the love the most high allowed me to have for him was any less then the shit shakespearean sonnets were born from, the intensity of my hurt might allow my friends and non-friends and family to disrespect him. but that's not the case. I don't wanna hear "move on" especially from people all smug an shit in their own blissfully happy and perfect relationships full of bliss and happy perfection. what is that? I don't wanna hear "the scientist" by coldplay anymore, either, as I listened to it all yesterday so I could make myself cry.
this is why I'm hurting...the dichotomy. if I could just say FUCK HIM this would be cake! yellow cake with chocolate icing an shit! but that is just not my way...I've said it before, I'll say it again, studying zen has ruined any part of me that was cold hearted...it's ruined the part of me that really ain't care at all about karma or what might happen to me later if I didn't at least try to expand myself beyond bitter bitchisms...and I am delightfully ruined because a month, six months, a year from now I will be better...and happy again...whether he's next to me or not. I will forgive him...I've already started to...not because I'm weak or cause it's easier that way, not cause half my friends say I should at least try, not cause the bible or koran or the three pillars of zen say so, not even because when I come home from work he has a letter full of what I wanted so long for him to feel waiting for me and when I go to bed there's another on my pillow...but because it's necessary to maintain my sanityyyyyyyy. nahmean? I'm not tryin to be a fool...foolish ways do not become me...a fool wouldn't take him back because he lied too frequently and with an ease that scares me...a fool wouldn't NOT take him back because we have built so much together and maybe this time the hurt he feels is enough to make that last piece of him that wasn't worthy of what we had better...
saul williams said "time makes dreams defer". do you think he only said that cause it sounded poetically really good? cause I don't know if I grasp that. time is going to heal me...and the most high is gonna lead me. us.
in any case...I long for the days of obscurity and anonymity where I could write what's in my heart and it stop short of being the newest blip in the i-net drama radar. I wish I could find my center by doing what I love - writing - without no doubt giving those he rejected some kind of vindicatioin...it'd be real cool if I could just expel and move on lighter and less full of tears and not see it transmogrified into a three-ring-circus, but those days are over.
so just...hold the clowns, huh? I hate clowns.