Atari

Going back in time to enjoy the things I love.  It has been strange hanging out with people I've only just met and their siblings.  The day before was silly violent and antagonized by the middle child in her family.  Her being the middle child and antagonizing everyone around her.  She was the back end of an eight banger.  It was difficult to identify and made more hilarious by our friend asking if he could bang her older sister.  I'm pretty sure it was not up to me or her sister's fiance.   Pretty sure whether or not she wanted to get mucky was and still is completely up to her.  You can come along for the ride if you want to.

"I've sucked enough dicks in my life."  ~ Tammy

We had this ongoing bet about how long it would take before she ran to history no one else knew, and I chimed in,but it was half hearted.  I just wanted to belong in the conversation.  Not a pissing contest of abuse as much as a revisiting of the things that inform and continue to inform our existence.  It's kind of like driving a car.  Think about it this way:  put in 40 degrees of left input to your road facing wheels and they will turn fifteen degrees.  Learning compensation.  Learning how much you actually do burn when you proclaim you've torched it to soil.

It really is that simple though and that laughable and that much more enjoyable than trying to slug away one for one.  That much more enjoyable than trying to get one unit of output for each understood unit of input.  Existence does not work that way.  There are boosters constantly.  Whether you like it or not, everything that you do is boosted and amplified upon reception.  It's the combat feedback loop.  I hit you.  How hard did I hit you?  Seven?  Six?  How hard will you hit me back?  At least a six.  What will I feel a six is?  Put a number on it.  At least a five, but you don't know so tag me at least at a six, but that six comes in at an eight because I already ate a six and you know that because you've been hurt before and know what a six feels like and know I probably played it soft and a jump cut is in order.

Into the flame, into the fire.  I have a lot of love pent up and no way to spend it.  Why you no want to cuddle no more?

Fucking cowards.

Sometimes we have to back off because we know they will take it the wrong way and run with it.  Does it hurt to be alone? Sure.  Does it hurt enough to make changes?  No.  One thing I've learned about myself is that distance is still necessary.  What I view as an appropriate relationship is still not, by and large, viewed the same way and it's not heartbreaking the way it used to be.  It used to break me apart in fantastic ways and now it's more of a "okay, we're here right now.  Option A, B, and J."  Cash out now, because two more steps will lead to two more steps will lead to two more steps will lead to two more steps and we're at J anyway.

I'm getting back to the things I love and it's been difficult.  It's been a battles by turn.  I have been trying not to think about it, but the successful artists I know had a pretty solid backing before they had outside backing making their whiles worth something.  I want to cut their faces off and wear them and drink the blood that trickles into my mouth while I talk behind their skin and I want to be able to talk to them about it, but "that's not okay."  And still they call themselves artists and photographers in the meantime never having actually known what the mean times really are.   I'm no teacher, but I am willing to crash course them.

Stop cock teasing me.   Stop front loading me.  I cannot handle that kind of nonsense.  Take your vacations and enjoy your languages, but do not fucking...  ....I'm going to war.  There are rules.  Aligning with my own.  Measures not drastic.

Deterioration.  Leaving memories at least as fast as they come.   I drive toward new ones as constantly as I can because there really is nowhere else to be and I am okay with that.  It's a riot.  I feel silly sometimes bending over to pick up the shards of myself and sometimes the entire exercise feels machinated.  What I really want to do is tattoo you and have you tattoo me whatever you want.  Battling down the brain chiggies.  The glitch farm.

I could look back in time, but it won't change the view.  The hardest I ever cheated was kissing another woman and being truthful about it.  What makes you okay?  Violently successful people who don't understand how they were set up to succeed aggravate me.  Everything they know are things I should have known when they did, but had to learn later because, like those post coin op machines with the news on their face, I had no coins to insert and no nudge on top of that to pay attention to them and am now taking notice and am now earning quarters to slot in and am now getting up to speed with and am not mad about it.  A little sorry, but not mad.

Through the TV eye.  A wrecka.  I said "hey!"  Being bummy with no standards is okay.  I'm not going to hurt you if you promise not to hurt me. Dhali Lama and llama beans and trying to be profound in every little thing.   It's silly.  The outside world bleeds in and the inside world bleeds out and really i just want you to say you're sorry.  Even that will be and is meaningless because I won't remember it until I'm steamed and wishing I was not so forgettable.

Power.  Something cosmic.  It takes a lot out of me to be here and I know it takes a lot out of you to be here with me.  Diet on anxiety.  I wish I could fill my stomach whenever I wanted to, but I've been grained to the scale of rice to need as little as possible and digest want as a hack hazard that is a crumple zone.  I want to be a foodie.  I really do.  Up chucked bringing to do more with less.

Every time I get something new to me I expect it to break down immediately or somehow fail me because no one gives something valuable to them up for grabs.  Except people like me who do not deal in currency.  Your word is your word.  Your bond is your bond.  Everything starts and ends at that initial hand shake.  No farther and no less.  Things new to me are things old and decrepit to others.  Not a revitalization as much as a re-purposing.  There is love in that.

Time elapsed, time remaining.

There was this one time I set my cat's whiskers to flame, not understanding that he was made of fur.  The whiskers caught and burned down to his coat and we were both surprised at how fast it was able to go.  Needless to say, or perhaps, for everyone's sake, we never got that ticky tacky mad again, but if I need to I know some good out of the way spots to bury you if you want to roll those dice.  I'm a bad liar and a good forgetter.  Push upstairs ;")

I will play asteroids with you for days.


///Daedelus - "My Beau"  at night, I think of you and do not call because our wars are different and mounting a head after a battle means something wildly different to me than it does to you, no slight