Monday, August 11, 2003


I am sucking down this cigarette as furiously as I can. For me, a random smoker it tingles the back of my throat and warms my lungs. How much tar did I just put in there? Not enough. Not nearly enough.

It isn't the fact that I think this woman is beautiful and obviously out of my league it is the fact that she is. If I died right here outside of this cafe right now I would have better luck of having a person I didn't know five minutes ago put his or her lips on mine in some feeble attempt to rescue me than I would trying to talk to perfect fucking strangers in some far flung hope of romance. I give up. I want another cigarette.

I can't smoke in the cafe. Fuck the cafe. Fuck the beautiful woman with the light blue dress that is nearly form fitting. Not in some hooker come fuck me way, but that goddamn elegant way that says "Hi, I'm college educated and I play tennis on the weekends" way. I didn't want to drink another chai anyway. I am sick with sweet things in my life. I am sick with pretending to fit in to be this or be that. I am sick with desperately trying to stay somewhat connected with fashion trends and hip places. And yet I cannot commit myself to hang out with fashion-retarded people with horrible breath and bad foot wear. I am stuck in some nether world alone.

What now? Should I travel to the art museum and look at more wonderful things, inspiring things and try to muster all of intelligence into seeing what the artist was seeing? Understanding Art Movements for me is studying the absurd and ridiculous. I saw a red square not centered on a white background. It had the title of something like "Peasant woman represented by red square." Oh. Is that what the fuck that was! I thought it was a goddamn bullshark represented by the red square. Nothing is beautiful and simple and easy to hold anymore. Fuck me. I am going to need a new pack. I think I am swallowing this shit.

You know I had this dream the other night. It was about you and me. Fucking fantastic shit right? You don't think I dream about you but I do. First off you think I don't even notice you, or certainly wouldn't write about you but I do notice and I am writing about you. I understand you have a certain distrust for what I say to you and you have some feeling perhaps unsaid feeling that I don't like you or at least that I may not like you as much as you think you might like me. Of course that isn't true. I have a mysterious way of playing against intuition. I have done this my whole life. It is the way I pause when I speak and the way I construct my sentence and the way I look at you when you are not looking at me.

I am writing this all for you right now as I walk around the city. I will of course type it later. I want you to know what I think about you and about me and us and all that stuff. Listen I don't do a good job of this, so this will be all kind of confusing and vague I guess because I just don't want to be hurt.

I had a dream about you. It was maybe two nights ago. We haven't emailed or communicated in any other fashion in some time. I thought once we were having a good start at a great relationship but things have sort of slipped away. Maybe it was me, maybe it was just the way things were but you know...things have drifted. I am babbling. I am an idiot and I should have never started this, but I have made commitments now and I have to see them through. I want to be remembered as a man who lived with some convictions you know.

Listen I just come right out and say that the dream was kind of sexual in nature. But don't think it was just some sort of sex fantasy thing. It wasn't like that. I am not like that. Sure, I look at porn sometimes. God, what am I saying? I just mean to say it wasn't like just sex. It wasn't me and you and a hotel room.

It was laughing. There was laughing and man did that feel great. Do you know how long it has been since I have laughed with a woman? Sometimes during our instant messages I would laugh and I guess I really thought we could laugh together. I dreamed that you would tilt your head back sometimes and bring your right hand up towards your mouth. Maybe you are shy about your mouth, but you have a lovely smile. It was bright in my dream. We were light and moved like clouds. We were in a town then a park. Have you been to Alaska? I haven't but I dreamt we could be there with smiles and an umbrella. It rained but we only had one umbrella so we shared. I made sure you were covered but it was coming down hard and I just wanted to be close.

Your hair smelled wonderful. Your finger traced the scar on my left cheek. The rain kept coming and we lowered the umbrella in a movement that seemed to take days. I bit your bottom lip and you smiled. My lips traveled just barely missing your skin until I came to your ear. Now your mouth was near my ear and I felt you breathe. The warm air crashed into my ear and butterflies filled my stomach. Raindrops pelted us. My tongue deftly moved your ear lobe to my teeth. Your nails began to dig into my arms as you inhaled sharply. I smiled and let lose a small laugh and moved to see your eyes. Wild filled I wished to dominate you and your eyes spoke of a desire to be dominated. I grabbed your hair violently and my teeth meet the flesh of your neck your hands and nails tore into me.

What happened to our clothes I cannot say but we were there now on the ground with rain coming down on our naked bodies. You were lying on your back and my mouth moved to discover you. My left hand clenched your right hand tightly as my right hand moved to part your legs. First I passed over you with my lips separated and you felt my breath on you. My tongue then slowly came out and then back in, my lips touched yours and you tensed your body. Suddenly my tongue came out with a passionate rage and your body jerked. My arms were curled under your legs and my hands grabbed your upped thigh firmly. You were mine there.

That was my dream. It was only a dream but it was more than that. I think I wanted to have a connection with you. But I do not know how to say so, to do so. I am, you know, alone in this world. Despite the thousands of other lonely people who live probably just miles away from me it is you who I want to see and I don’t know. I guess I am some kind of pathetic loser.

These cigarettes are not doing it fast enough for me. And now that I have confessed and squared myself to best of my ability with this place, I just don’t think there is anything more for me to do. I am not for this world. I cannot bear to be alone anymore. I cannot bear the sadness of waking up after dreams where I am not alone. I will not suffer anymore. I have enough GHB to end this.

I will dream of you forever now. I hope you live a happy life.

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