Cryptomasochism

Because baths are new beginnings;
How is it possible to get stuck with a single song over and over again, instrumentals and lyrics alike, when you've only heard it once in your lifetime: your more than 2 deadened decades of a lifetime? It's sick! And strange. And it weakens your insides.


Because our story is nonpareil;
How is it probable to get hold of (and hold on to) something so genuinely inconsistent, like an accident waiting to happen, when all you've thrived for seems so terribly useless, just like surprises that wouldn't matter. It's insane! And irrational. And it derails your brain.


Because we are cryptic and masochistic;
How is it plausible to come up with the same idea over and over again, upon waking up and before going to sleep, when (physically) you're only inches away yet (psychologically and ironically) you're eons of miles astray? It's cruel! And cold. And it wounds your soul.


Because everything is shit;
*Except you, love.

*last line may vary:

Including you, cunt.

and/or

Especially you, twat.

Same

The best (and/or worst) ideas come into mind when I'm on autopilot. Like when I walk our street while the sun is scorching my nape and a stray, familiar cat crosses my path. Or when I stare into emptiness and there's a distinct oscillating resonating sound in my ears. Even the sound is on autopilot. These sacred ideas come into mind most especially when I'm alone in the loo, brushing my teeth, puffing a stick, or, most probably, taking a crap. I always wish I had a pen and notebook with me so I could write selective phrases (mostly connected with ampersands) down.

Most of my thoughts go down the toilet, or the drain, along with biological filth. In a snap, those ephemeral musings disintegrate into the void. It's like even after 10 laborious hours of sleep, you still wake up without remembering a single speck of your dream. You wake up wanting to sleep more.

I always wish I had a pen and notebook with me.

~*~

It's significant: how you rescued me from dire rehabilitation and now, I am back to civilization. I thought of this as I stared at the half moon a while ago: I had a mental kind of lunar eclipse. When was the first (or the last) time we looked at it together? When was the last (or the first) time we took each other's breath away? I scoff at myself whenever, unconsciously, I long and search for things that don't matter the most.

Just now, here's what came into my mind: firsts and lasts are, more often than not, interchangeable.

Empty spaces illuminates magnifies drama. You are the empty space and this leaves me with the drama. You see, I am through with the third person point of view. Now, it is just you and I and we; no more he or she or they. We magnify illuminate each other's drama.

We are empty spaces. The empty spaces. And this leaves us with all the drama.

Our love is on automatic pilot.

0.000

You take my picture and I see through the camera I see through your soul You nudge me You take a deeper sigh And then there is subtlety I kiss you in return You run your fingers through my hair and I feel our souls collide I want to imitate a scene A scene from an unusual love story All love stories are unusual anyway Our glances are entwined into a memory A hint of light A tinge of lust I take your hand I rest my head on your shoulder And we stare into space You don't take my hand You leave me all alone I doubt you I despise you We go back We look back We turn back You close your eyes And I do too Without us knowing We cling into each other's arms We separate into each other's thoughts You are making it clear I am being obvious I wasn't looking for you You were waiting for me And you found me And I always go back to you We stop We start We begin We end I stutter Your stomach flutters And you make me feel what I want to see You make me see what I haven't felt For a long time Towards a lifetime You remind me and I bring you with me You want me Likewise You haunt me I am hoping Reciprocal You are wondering My mind is wandering Our present is all we have And then we rest our heads until the next morning We sleep We are awaken And then we dance At dusk We imagine life that's ours and there is only uncertainty I cry and you sigh I want you and like you and want you and like you And you do too And we don't worry Anymore And we don't hurry All the more We slide

Polar Opposites

We've dissimilar names but somehow we've similar aims.
You've suddenly fallen asleep and now I'm left with our unfinished dreams.

I'm no brilliant and you're no stupid and we've finally fallen into place.
You are brilliant and I am stupid and we are effortlessly drifting into a daze.

Stupid or not, I love you.
You are my boy.
Go to sleep.

Kisses.

Brilliant or not, I love you.
I am your girl.
Let us go to sleep.