Thursday, 1 September 2011


Emotions more settled these days, still haunted by fantasies, whose only worth is as art, inspiration, poetry... I've tried taking a notebook to bed, to write the words that come to me as I drift toward sleep, but... I tend to drift into sleep without writing anything down. I guess bothering to write these things is the first step in commitment to earning a few Bardic stripes.

I rarely write with standard rhyme, and to the beat of my different drum...
These foolish dreams that trouble me,
these Phantasms of my mind,
I know now, their emptiness,
my winecup was full with
sweet Faery liquid gold,
my parched croaking
a crow's song of seeking -
Drink, drink, drink,
past Hell to Fiddlers' Green,
Think, think, think,
blast sense to smithereens,
Oh wisdom, won by tears and blood,
more tears flow to the sea -
Reflections of others' glories,
Inflections added to plain, plain text,
belief in impossibilities,
Anchor and Hope of a Shivering Wreck.

Waffle waffle. Moan, mope, swoon, bleh.

When the dream was my reality, life was ecstacy.

Don't think I'll be going to Stonehenge this Equinox, too many arseholes to avoid disputes with, and too much discomfort at the thought of standing again where my obsession moved from fiction to insane fantasy. I shouldn't have listened to the voice I heard 1 & 3/4 yrs ago, when I was in the grip of utter despair - and I shouldn't have believed my victim knew what he was getting into... I was both trying to warn him, and hide my insanity... It didn't work out well at all.

~ And Now? Now I don't think I could bear seeing him, because no matter what he would wish, I expect I'd be launched upon by the more psychotic sectors of his community. It's a full year now since I last even *saw* him ~ well over a year since we last spoke face to face... With all the loving gazes and suchlike. I miss it - I miss it terribly - It seemed like such a real relationship, but I guess I carefully crafted it in my head, interpreting things how I wished. I'd love to be able to enjoy the great happiness I felt during the peak of my Limerent Delusions, when I was mad enough to believe. All it took to end things were a few magic words, ones other men knew, ones they weren't scared to say... But you, my dear... You wanted to milk all the benefits with no cost, no exchange, no sharing? I was your whore, paid in rare kisses, I was your slave, bound by my addlepated promises... *sigh* And now, I can't even buy you a beer, can't call you, I mean, what would we talk about? We were using and exploiting each-other, but I thought there was a FOUNDATION of a Spiritual Link, Destined Love, and all that happy ending bollocks. On a scale of one-to-wrong, I was running at Elebenty.

Yes, yes, that waffle above varies in its addressee, I think that's okay, I mean, it's not like I'll be tried for crimes against writing, is it, now?

I AM GLAD I AVOIDED KIDNAP, RAPE, ASSAULTS, ETC. What I did do was bad enough, but... you've forgiven me, dear victim, for the things I did and thought... You know I was ill, but... I still feel badly enough in guilt and attraction, to know the simple avoidance of contact must continue. I don't want to hurt any more, myself or others. I even thought you were trying to 'gaslight' me, when you asked me to declare it ALL my fault... Saying this and that as if history hadn't occurred - thank fuck you were able to admit that you have a bundle of amnesias, for with a little more twisting of the blade, you could have had me do ANYTHING to assuage my guilt, seeking atonement. I hope you forgive me for waffling on and on - nothing ever really happened, so, it's okay, as it was mainly in my head? Nothing of any consequence to you, was it? So you find forgiveness easier than I do, when it comes to myself. You? There's nothing to forgive you for, as it went along, I believed you as sick and fucked up and lonely as I... Ah, so wrong - glad of it, really - I'm glad you're okay and happy-ish. *smiles* It'd be nice to be able to share some genuine just-friends time with you, one day, but that's nothing I can control.

It's hard making sense of things that make no sense.

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