For Oscar

There are moments in life when the safe assumptions of logic and reason fall prey to the phantasmatic and colourful illusions of ardour. Like shattered glasses on painted walls, each refraction becomes an infraction of the senses. Bows and splinters of rainbow meld and sew into each other; soft maroon and saffron gold coalesces like ambushed lovers with effulgent emeralds and turquoise shards of light.

The walls that were once grey - crumbling plaster that one knew so well, lived with so well - had begun to dance in incandescent fire. Aurora ignited on a simple plane of existence, adulterating simplicity and ennui with an entropic force of life. Here is where the safe assumptions of reason and logic fail. The senses reel in confusion; the body weakens and paralyses with the onslaught of incomprehensible beauty and incommensurable emotions.

What was once decay and dilapidation, now sparks and illuminates with a blinding luster of tones and hues. Rotting crevices are now stained with iridescent colours that waxes over the dreary dullness of grey. This is magic that strip depressions and restores amorous ecstasy. This is the force of creation that exponentially quantifies the value of life.

This passionate display is a mimetic tinct of what some might call Love.

Believe me when I tell you I am a fuck wit. I ruin the very thing that I desire.

I am a pragmatist. I have conjured my own demise and thus I will eat the briers that weed my life. My own selfishness has caused the pain that I must now endure. The pain for another... by another... by my own. What have I done? I cannot say but know that I cannot be trusted.

Why the fuck did I say what I said? It was true though... what I felt, at least in part, from fear and self-possessed narcissism. Don't trust me... I'm a fucking fool. What's worst... I lie so fluently, like oil sliding on ice, it makes me sick. There is no forgiveness. How to I mend a broken heart? I can't. Not even Jesus can mend broken hearts.

I have no self-control. I am ruled by a solipsistic carelessness that not even the deranged would attempt. I am more than deranged. I am hopeless. Why can't I see it coming? Oh, it was coming all right... it was coming to bite my ass when I least expected. I deserve it. I deserve his hate and his condemnation. Good. Suffer his contempt. Suffer all that he may lambaste upon you.

I've said it so many times... it's making me sick, but I know not the love that you speak. What the fuck is it?! Love a person unconditionally? I've never heard of such a ridiculous proposition. Love is exceptionally conditional, especially when it is defined beside monogamy. Love another as there are no others comparable? What that is I do not know. Do you feel the hearts of all those around you? Those beating rhythms are matched to your own; those thumps are desperate to synchronise with your own; those plentiful others are gyrating to false satiation. Yet you choose only one? One and forever? Liar. Liars! I will not live with such idiotic pretense.

I will not give unless it is given. But my needs are so varied... who may possibly satiate all? Make a decision now. If one is a parasite, then be that parasite. Show the monstrosity that one is endowed with. Show no false pretenses. Show nothing that is otherwise oneself. Show the eidolon whom I mask as an angel.


I am never alone. I fear loneliness. I fear rejection. Thus I am first to consume... I am first to regurgitate... I am first to fuck... I am first to leave. For no one has made me stay, for no one can make me cherish loneliness. For loneliness needs a cherished heart.