we are supermodern we are retroactive we are automatons
we are individuals we are whispers we are all you hear.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

The Ocean Has Freshwater Dreams

Spring is the season of love. The birds are out, the squirrels are out, the people are out, and they're all fucking. Me, I'm watching low-quality videos of naked girls because being an antisocial piece of shit isn't such a prosperous occupation. Oh, the joy. Hear the birds singing: Springtime! Hear the fake moans from the girls on the computer screen: springtime.

Walking around with nowhere to go. Getting to a party late because it was a nice day and kissing in the park on the way was called for. Holding hands while the sun beats down, warm and gentle caresses in beams of light. Shine in the eyes of the girl who means the most. Laying in wet grass together. These are the things I miss, the things I wish I dreamt about. The things I don't remember having.

Green is the colour of spring. Green is the colour of sickness. These are connected. Rain is the weather of spring. Rain is a pathetic fallacy of the way I feel when I see couples in spring. These, too, are connected. Brown, dirty snow mars the streets and lawns right now. When it all washes away, things will turn green quickly thereafter. I will join them.

Loneliness isn't the most appealing virtue in a guy. It makes him seem like he's too clingy or needy or lacking self-confidence. It's too bad, because everyone is pretty lonely. They just don't admit it because they don't want to let their shield down. Well, here you go. You hear that? That's my armour falling to the ground. I give up defending myself, fighting to keep that most real feeling from showing through the cracks. I am naked and all I have are my dreams to keep me from freezing.

Superfluous, melodramatic, self-indulgent narcissist. Hello, my name is. Oh, I didn't see you there, gazing at these words from your desk. I hope your chair is more comfortable than mine. This one gives me poor posture and digs into my back. How is the weather where you are? Is it rainy? Do you ever feel just a little bit alone? Because you are. But you don't have to be. Look around. You can tell it in their eyes, they want to be a part of you. To take a part of you with them when they're no longer around. And not in a "sociopath's trophy" way. They want your stories and the singular experience of experiencing your experience to take with them. They want you.

So do I. So take a chance. Take my hand. Take a walk. Take your time. While I figure out if this is all directed at you, or if it's at me.

1 comment:

  1. I almost wish you made a video with each post... Like the videos you used to make - they were fun. Each of these invokes something deep inside and i should read them more often