Cupid's Drug
Two relationship problems have arisen - one gay and one straight. Both of which were based on unrequited love and affection. Sounds familiar? Well... it's the twenty-first century method of saying "I love you, but not that much". Feels familiar? It's the twenty-first century bass beat for a fuck-and-go rhythm.
But I'm too harsh. The latter did not occur with my friends' relationships. Actually, I wish it did. The problem would have been solved in a heart-beat. I would have adviced my friends to tell their ex-partners to find the tallest building, go to the basement, explode only one part of the supporting structure, and pray very hard that they slowly get crushed. And with that happy picture in mind, I'd ask my friends to take a good dose of Crystal (maybe with a touch of Absinth) and hallucinate their worries away.
Oh no... life's too comedic for that to happen. It's never that simple isn't it? Relationships have to be so complicated that not even 3000 Intel chips combined could solve (and Microsoft thinks its that smart - pft!).
I listened patiently thinking, "What makes me the fucking expert here?!" My relationships aren't exactly in the amour boudoir of cupid's nest. Hell! My relationships aren't even near the rectal area of cupid's fart! I'm that far away from Dr. Phil's chapter on "A successful fag lifestyle" that not even a gay hamster would twitch a whisker in my direction. But still my friends trust my sagacious advice and I make it plaintively clear that they're mad.
Perhaps it is because of their maddening reasons that makes me the perfect person to dispense the necessary poison for them to chuck and regurgitate their angst. I must admit that I am good in dispensing the right kind of alchemical formula. So good that I could make George Bush himself claim stupidity for a day. Now that's a good drug!
And with humility and shame, I admit that I am the drug. I am that benevolently toxic fiend who makes their world spin with perceptive clearness. I am the shadowy supplier of ecstatic thoughts and peaceful slumber. Indeed, I am the rust of twenty-first century machinic embodiment which is the leading cause of communication static.
It is shameful! Oh, I know, I know. My modesty gets the better of me sometimes. But you know what? We crazy people keep the tracks running, the clocks spinning and the backsides shitting. Without incoherent minds to make clear of ambiguity, we would be swimming around the tonsils of a humpback whale and calling it civilisation.
Yeah... I know I'm right. At least till this drug is over.
But I'm too harsh. The latter did not occur with my friends' relationships. Actually, I wish it did. The problem would have been solved in a heart-beat. I would have adviced my friends to tell their ex-partners to find the tallest building, go to the basement, explode only one part of the supporting structure, and pray very hard that they slowly get crushed. And with that happy picture in mind, I'd ask my friends to take a good dose of Crystal (maybe with a touch of Absinth) and hallucinate their worries away.
Oh no... life's too comedic for that to happen. It's never that simple isn't it? Relationships have to be so complicated that not even 3000 Intel chips combined could solve (and Microsoft thinks its that smart - pft!).
I listened patiently thinking, "What makes me the fucking expert here?!" My relationships aren't exactly in the amour boudoir of cupid's nest. Hell! My relationships aren't even near the rectal area of cupid's fart! I'm that far away from Dr. Phil's chapter on "A successful fag lifestyle" that not even a gay hamster would twitch a whisker in my direction. But still my friends trust my sagacious advice and I make it plaintively clear that they're mad.
Perhaps it is because of their maddening reasons that makes me the perfect person to dispense the necessary poison for them to chuck and regurgitate their angst. I must admit that I am good in dispensing the right kind of alchemical formula. So good that I could make George Bush himself claim stupidity for a day. Now that's a good drug!
And with humility and shame, I admit that I am the drug. I am that benevolently toxic fiend who makes their world spin with perceptive clearness. I am the shadowy supplier of ecstatic thoughts and peaceful slumber. Indeed, I am the rust of twenty-first century machinic embodiment which is the leading cause of communication static.
It is shameful! Oh, I know, I know. My modesty gets the better of me sometimes. But you know what? We crazy people keep the tracks running, the clocks spinning and the backsides shitting. Without incoherent minds to make clear of ambiguity, we would be swimming around the tonsils of a humpback whale and calling it civilisation.
Yeah... I know I'm right. At least till this drug is over.
posted by Insouciantfemme at 12:24 am
4 Comments:
You know what Lacan said. Dont you?
Hi Hugo
Thanks for coming to visit my madness. What did Lacan say? I am puzzled. He said a lot of things. From agreeing with Freud that shit is a criteria of economics; that lack is basis of our pathetic attempt at satiation; that women are quite secondary to anything that spells 'dick'; I do wonder what I have provoked in my writing that lacan would be the least interested in. :) Seriously, what would Lacan have said?
Cheers!
Insouci
Love is giving something you don't have to someone who doesn't want it.
LOL! That's a good one. I'll touche to that. I wonder what that someone would want then if the basis of love is that ephemeral? I do wonder what someone would want that I can never satisfy? After all, if we believe in Lacan's thesis, I can never satiate another's desire or else they would literally bugger-off. It's a catch-twenty-two. Better not love at all. But then again, Deleuze and Guattari would say it differently. They would ask us to love like a whore. lol!
Insouci
Post a Comment
<< Home