Annual Heartache

Nearly a year ago we were together. You whispered sweet nothings into my ear. I was slightly drunk, but not too much, just enough to lower my inhibitions.

I wanted you.

I wanted you to show me how attracted you were to me.

I wanted to explore your body, an unfamiliar territory. 

You kissed me, made love to me.

I was only looking for sex.

You took my heart, I couldn't get you out of my head.

We watched the stars at night-my favourite thing to do. 

Tonight, I don't know why, but I'm thinking of you. 

No Angel

(Former junkie trying to find intimacy in a world of instant gratification and banal sex)

There is a sense of resentment and latent hate in my head today and I don't like it one bit. 

I'm at the Orange Festival in Dambuk, Joseph Arthur is on stage and we're up next. "Please play my song, please play my song" I mutter to myself. He does.

I run to the front from our makeshift greenroom. It's raining as he plays our song. It's such a beautiful, beautiful tragedy. 

"Don't know why I'm still afraid, if you weren't real I would make you up..."

I go back to the summers we spent in my room, making love. We were so fucking great together. You were the yin to my yang. Maybe if I'd loved you a little bit more, you would have stayed. But I was so young and so caught up in my own tragedies back then. I am sorry for not reaching out to you more. I'm really really sorry. I guess this will be my cross to bear till the day I die. I beat myself up every other day thinking I could have saved you, if only I hadn't been so indifferent to your suffering. I should have saved you, I could have saved you. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. 

The idea of the existence of parallel universes brings me a strange sense of comfort. Maybe I am with you, we're together, in one of them. Maybe we're a super generic, boringly normal couple somewhere. Who knows. But I like to think that there is a possibility. It gives me the strength to carry on with my shit-show of a life. I miss you man, I miss you so much sometimes. All I want is for you to hold me and never let go.

I have been in love many times since. It's been the most wonderful thing. But I cannot say that I love you any less today because I am still so hopelessly in love with you. There has always been a special place for you in my heart and in my head.

What do I do? What do I do? 

Some days are great, I keep you in my heart and go about my life. But some days are so terrible. I have trouble getting out of bed, the same bed on which we'd make love and you'd hold me as I slept. I miss us. I miss how happy you'd make me. I miss everything about you. 

Your voice.

Your touch.

Your kisses.

Your taste.

Your smell.

Your everything. 

Lately, I've been forcing myself to break down all my walls, lower my guard and this is the most vulnerable I have been in years. It's a strangely masochistic thing to do because the cynic in me knows very well how badly it could end. I don't care though. Bring it on, universe. Hurt me, break me down again and again and again. I've learnt to enjoy this pain. 

I have been broken so many times before that I don't feel scared anymore. 

You've filled me with endless love and endless strength. Death may have forced us apart but that's alright. It's only a matter of time before we're together again. 

Love Is The New Feel Awful

Stoned, I listen to the Dandy Warhols song on loop. The more I listen to it, the more drawn I am. Or maybe it's just the drugs.
Is love really the new feel awful?

I feel so good, but I also feel so much pain.
Yin and yang.

I want you, I don't need you.
I need you, I don't want you.







There are times when you know you're walking right off a cliff but you don't care, you feel invincible. The heartache is constant, it always will be. The heart only craves for what it can't have. It's human nature.
 

And what about me

deciding you all the time

oh my aching heart

forget all.

It's all about you

convincing me

all the time

oh my aching heart

forget all

and what about me

deserving you

of the time

oh my aching heart

forget all

Everlong

The sunlight filters in through the window, it's warm and cool at the same time with the ac on. There is no music, no drugs and no distraction this time. I want to know him, his everything everything.

What a beautiful boy.

 And as he kisses me I wonder, like that Foo song,
"If everything could ever be this real forever, if anything could ever be this good again.."

Former Junkie

My hair is growing long.
I feel strangely comfortable in my own skin.
There is no need to impress, only empathise.

It's a strangely beautiful state of mind to be in. I only see love and I only see the other side, lack of humanity.
I never want to go there.
It is dark, death.

There is only love, we just need to believe.
Those who never take risks never live, they cannot feel.

The chase, the high, the comedown.
The strongest drug there ever was.

Muse/ Dreaming Of You

Open,
blossom,
like a flower.

The glory is in love.
The pleasure is in love.

So beautiful,
exciting, 

like magic. 

 
I want him to hold me, I'm so strangely drawn.
Maybe it's because he is not mine to keep.
But he sees me, right into my soul.
I think.

I write a love-song. Or two. Or a million.
None of them describe the chaos in my heart.
This feeling is more than good, it's a kind of ecstatic lunacy.

Beautiful Boys

I like you and I like you too.

What do I do?

My heart is full of love for you, for you. 

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby

The physical fatigue, the travelling, severe lack of sleep and endless debauchery has finally caught up with me. My body feels used up. I need to rest, I need to let it heal...It's the only thing I have that is truly mine.

Or is it?

So many hands and mouths once I turned twelve, still a child.
My body feels used, defiled.
It's a horrible feeling when you've been fighting to keep this feeling out of your head and yet it all comes back one day, out of nowhere.

I rewind to being fourteen, discovering sex again, pushing myself to face my nightmares so they disappear once and for all. Brave, brave little girl.

I got my first tattoo when I was seventeen-so fierce, cocky almost.
A new person, the strongest you'd see.
And today I feel weak and so vulnerable.
His hands, cruelest I've seen, taking from me what is mine.
I want to scream and tell him that I am only a child.
But I am barely twelve, so defenseless and dumb.
I am unaware of human cruelty, greed, lust.

But it doesn't matter anymore, it's all in the past.
Tomorrow I'll shower and try to scrub him off me again.

My body has experienced much love as well. I will not be a hypocrite.
It has felt the tenderest of kisses and the purest of touch.
Some have been so kind, I am grateful. I keep them in my heart, always.

Maybe in another decade or so I'll realise how strong I have been through it all.
Tonight, however, I wish I had some reassurance from another soul.
Such is life. Yin and Yang.

Sticky Icky Sweat

Summertime, I want to spend it with you.
The heat, the hysteria.
Break down the walls, give yourself.

My body contorts into a lotus flower, blooming only for you.
Don't pluck me just yet.
This youth is still sacred, don't defile it.

Lovers in summer, we twist and turn.
Like the hands of a clock,
There is no concept of time in our dimension.

Make love to me after you're done fucking me.
How else will I remember you otherwise?
Last summer was someone, the next will be someone else.

Morality

There is something in those pair of eyes, I'm drawn to them.

It feels intoxicating, the presence.

But I know I cannot go down that road.

Some boundaries are best left uncrossed.

I have been stupid, frivolous.

And now there is a deep sense of regret.

Maybe time will change things, although my cynicism doesn't allow me to believe.

I will forever crave, they'll stick to their rules.

But I'm stubborn too, for a change.

I need, I need to believe.

Universe, this one's on you. 

Running To Stand Still

As a female artist in a predominantly male industry, Kesha's court ruling is rather heart-breaking and downright scary. Truth is, the law will never be sensitive to a victim of sexual assault. In my own way, I send out a prayer to her through this universe. I hope she gets through it, I hope she finds the strength to fight. I cannot imagine how horrific it must be for someone to have to continue being around one's molester. Life is sometimes cruel, nobody knows why.

The older I grow, the more irrelevant the sexual abuse in my past becomes. Sometimes, actually on months at a stretch, I don't think about it at all. Then there are days when I do, I try to gauge how far I've come since. I refuse to let it define who I am. Although, deep down inside I know it still does, it always will.

The triggers are strange. Most have disappeared over time but it's like a virus. You think you're healed but no, it hits you really hard one day when you're least expecting it.

I've never spoken to him since the last time I met him, as a fully-functional adult aware of one's body and sense to consent to something, but tonight I wonder how he is, where he is. I wonder if he ever thinks about me too.
He probably doesn't, why should he, I was a mere mistake he made in his youth. I wonder if he did with others what he did with me. I hope and pray he didn't.
I have forgiven him. I have forgiven many others who have used my body, who have used my heart. I guess it's easy for me to forgive because the scar he left behind remains the deepest till date.

Meditation keeps me calm, keeps me sane.
I breathe in, I breathe out.
All scars will heal.
All scars will eventually heal.
I tell myself everyday.
It is only a matter of time.



I have fought long and hard for my emancipation, but what about those who are unable to find the strength to do it on their own?
The pain comes back, the feeling of helplessness, being alone and alienated.

Sometimes, human beings can be strangely heartless.
I wish I could be a child forever.
Young, naive, hopeful...so pure, never cruel.

My Wild Heart, My Bad Choices

I'm by the sea, looking at the moon.
I'm thinking about you,
even though I know you aren't thinking of me too.

I join my boys, my moment of solidarity is over.
I drink, I dance, I sing, I laugh.
But before I go to sleep, I think about you,
even though I know you never think of me too.

I blame my luck, I blame my flaws, I blame my inability to tame my heart.
I blame myself, never you.
You don't know me
And it's not like you ever wanted to.

Maybe some day you will think about me, I can only hope.
It's sad to think how something so beautiful can mean nothing to you at all.
All of this technology, yet the distance grows.
You drift away, I wait for you to disappear from my mind completely.
But you never do,
I think about you, I only think about you.

I think about you more often than I'd like to,
I'm in love only because I can't have you.

Dread and Despair

The anticipation of forced sobriety makes me a little bit sick, work is the only thing that'll keep me from turning insane.

But I can survive this, not a big deal.

The downer from all the ecstasy has hit me hard this time. Every day is a slow, painful death. I deserve it, I brought it upon myself. I'm too old to blame the world for my miseries.

I wish you were here, but you are not. So I must do this on my own. Growing up is hard, you're not here and I have to do it all by myself. But god knows I'm trying real hard to not lose my shit.

Sometimes you need to pause and clear your head a little bit, get rid of all that garbage polluting your thoughts.

All in pursuit of salvation, this better be worth it. 

Un Nouveau Soleil

Why can't you dance with me,
with reckless abandon,
like you do when our hips are joined?

Why can't you be sincere,
like when you kiss me?

Fate.
Faith.

Maybe on some night we shall watch the stars together,
like young lovers,
with so much hope in their hearts.

You only need to love me,
there are no other rules.
I would break them all for you.

Keeper of my heart, my sanity, my faith.
My lover, my salvation.

Rattle

And maybe if I keep you in my heart,

Forever you'll stay.

Please don't go away.

I want to make love to you again.

Wait

I walked back home from the death anniversary of a relative today. One of the great Sens, what a character he was. I didn't go for him, I went for myself. I wanted not to mourn his loss but celebrate all the wisdom and great habits he passed down to me, which I will someday pass on to the next lot. But maybe I'll save the story of the Great Sens for another time. It's too long and I'm much too stoned.

School.
Children going to school, returning home from school made me rather envious, a little depressed even. What makes a man great, is it not the love he has to offer? A childlike love? Doesn't his ability to wonder about the world, like a child, make him great?
I try. I try very hard. But it feels like I'm fighting a losing battle against all this instant gratification.
There is no love in our world.

Formless,
Unconditional,
Eternal,
love...

I try to fill the void in my soul with drugs, alcohol, sex. But none of it helps.
No time, in this world of fast cars fast food fast fucks fast highs.

Sometimes I wish I weren't this hopeful. 
The breakdowns have been getting harder to deal with lately.

The highs seem nauseatingly high and lows are gut-wrenching.
There is no escape.
I try to break out, every time but I cannot.

Circumstances.
I have noticed that the more money people have, the less they are able to love. There is a growing irritation that makes me reject them like they are outcasts. But I also feel a deep sense of sorrow, the inability to love can be the most confusing thing for a person.
People who have faced no real tragedy (and I pray to the universe they never do!) and are yet unable to love baffle me. What holds them back? Why can't they learn of unconditional love from a dog? Or their infant selves? Maybe they'll learn someday, their souls are still far too young.
Everything is zen if you put your mind to it.

Goodbyes are hard.
I suck at them.
Goodbyes can be so heart-breakingly sad sometimes. It's alright to cry I guess. It still breaks my heart to think that I never did get a proper chance to say goodbye. Sometimes people just leave. You have to figure it out on your own, without them at that point. Nearly four years later, I'm still in mourning. Knowing that I'll never find that intimacy with anyone else breaks me down.
It still hurts so much.
It still fucking hurts.

Maybe he's waiting for me on the other side. He's watching me as I fall and pick myself up every time. He's watching me as I make my mistakes and win my battles. When I finish my journey of this lifetime, he will be there waiting for me. With all the love he always had to offer. Maybe that is how this will end.
But I don't know.
I don't know anything yet. I am here only to believe.


Why does it always have to be so hard?
I want to believe, so bad, so bad.

This wait is endless.
I'm trying very hard to control myself.
I need a miracle, the signs are not good enough.
I need love, too.

Until Next Time

Feels like I'm making love, although I am not in love with him.
I don't know anymore.
I don't know anymore.
I don't want to know.

I'm strangely sober. I feel good.


Maybe it's this age, maybe it's his body, but I feel endless pleasure on an afternoon again.
Winter is almost gone, so is my melancholy.

Waiting

Downing my whiskey like there's no tomorrow.

But you don't care, you never did.

You're too old.

I'm too too young.

I don't want to get to where you are.

So cruel, so cruel, so cruel.

I don't want to be so cruel when I'm 30 fucking years old.

I want to love. I want to preach love.

Not like you, so jaded.

No games.

I want to live without all these games.

I love.

That's my thing.