Being Normal

  i am trying so hard to allow things to be messy, to be unorganized, to be real. i want to let go and allow things to come to me like a dog comes to lay by your feet, but i feel in my life i have instilled such an addiction to control, such an addiction to imbalance, that i find myself feeling stagnant. i don’t want to have to cover everything i’ve ever wanted in claw marks and bruises. why can’t things just come and stay without me having to enforce the parts of myself i find most disgusting? there are moments where i find the way i am to be appalling. no matter what, i will always feel like i am a cage in search of a bird, keeping something else away from what could’ve been.

  i rob myself of the opportunity to experience things normally because i can’t handle the idea of something moving away from me. there will be moments where i feel as though i am healed, that there is nothing wrong with me, and for the past couple years i’ve only imagined all these concepts and heartaches. but they’re real. they’re so real, and they set me back so far. i get so fucking frustrated when shit from my past is still pestering me to this day. why can’t i just be left alone? why do the markings i received as a child still persist in my mind, my body, my heart? why do i have to remember the nights i lay awake on my twin-sized bed contemplating if i ever would have a place in this world, a place where i can call home? still to this day i feel like i’m wandering around trying to make sense of it all, and in the end i just want a family. i am obsessed with control, with setting things in my own life to be ordered and steady to ensure it won’t fall apart, but i can’t control people. i can’t control their thoughts or feelings, let alone their actions, but i still feel like i can try. why can’t you just stay in place and never move? why can’t you just answer to me and only me? it’s disgusting. 

  i hate thinking this way, and i wish i could drag my brain across the pavement to shave it down. i want to be recognized, i want to be chosen. i want to be loved. i want a home, i want a family, i want so many things, but no matter what, i can’t help but feel that my mind, my thoughts will soon stain anything meaningful. the cuts and open wounds from my past will slowly bleed over, turning the beautiful white sheets of new connections into a deep red, consuming and unforgiving, forcing a mark, forcing presence, forcing me.

Past 8PM

This silence closes my mouth and presses my heart. Why is it that I must always feel this way? Is it perhaps the way I am? The way I stand? The way I interact? Do I perhaps show too little, maybe too much? Should I grow some more, should I shave myself down? What is it? What is it I am to do? I am forever chained to myself, and that is what I must try to live with.

    Was it love?

Oh God, no. It wasn’t love. It was simply innocence. It’s the kind of curiosity you display as a child and reach over to. You want to feel it, taste it, smell it, see it, and so much more. That alone doesn’t mean this will become the only thing you explore, though.

    So then why are you so bent out of shape? If not what you just said, there will be more things to explore, to learn, to experience.

Well, it’s a simple ache, really. This yearning of mine, and it sits behind my ribs, breathing when I shouldn’t think about these things. In a weird way, this misery is what reminds me why I hardly let myself slip too far.

    How do you feel now?

I feel like someone is playing a cruel joke on me. The quicker I tap my fingers against my keyboard, the more the tension between my eyes swells up. I can feel my ears grow warm and my chest sink deep. It’s almost like I want to…

    Cry?

Yeah, cry.

    One last question. What is it that you wanted from this?

I wanted to fuck them, to be fucked. But then I got greedy, and before I knew it, all I wanted to do was learn. Learn the nooks and crannies of their mind. I wanted to sit and hear all the things that have been left unsaid for years. I wanted to be the shoulder you sought when you needed to cry. I wanted to slowly see the kind of person you are when you’re sad, when you’re upset, frustrated, happy, excited, serious, shocked, scared. I wanted it all.

It is not to say I necessarily “needed” anything from you. That’s not how I work. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone. I just want things, and I wanted to know you. And maybe the more I think about this, it is you letting me know you. You’re letting me know that you are not as thoughtful as you say you are. You are not as focused as you claim to be. But if there is one thing you got right, it was how you truly have no idea what you want. And I hope that one day you can find yourself. But right now you don’t want to be, and that’s okay. I am not judging you. I am simply realizing we are worlds apart.

My care and attention run so deep you don’t even know. I crave the intellectual conversations we had. They made me feel so whole, so seen. To hear someone keep up. In that moment, your body became the least interesting thing about you. Your thoughts and words enticed me. I guess that’s my own fault, though. I got way too over my head.

I don’t know what to do now other than roll over and breathe slow. One day my depth will be touched. One day I will have the things I want in a way that makes sense for me and whoever else I am with.

I think I just miss my headphones. My sweet headphones. I hope to see you again soon. Please come back home to me. You’ve been gone too long. I am sorry for leaving you so far from me. I promise to never let go of you again.

Devote Yourself 🪽

 PLAY TRACK: ONLY YOU
    i watched a movie with ♠️ yesterday, and i was really interested in the concept of it — the whole idea of dominance and submission. i feel like i stray a little from the typical dominant-to-submissive style. i don’t particularly find blind devotion appealing; that separates us too far apart. i want them to crawl toward me like an injured animal and need me to nurse them back to health. your mind is smoothed away with thoughts of me and the things you know i can provide for you, and in return, you will feel more useful than you ever have before.
    it’s not just a “you serve me,” but an “i will service you in ways i promise you will never forget.” a day won’t go by where i’m not watching you creep around in places you think no one can see. i want to hear the nasty things you’ll admit to me, and without a doubt, i will perform for you. but you see, it’s not like a master-and-slave sort of ordeal. i do like the concept of orders and compliance, but you have to look the part. when i say “yeah?” you say “yes” every time. when i ask you a question, you answer without dancing around the truth. and if you try to slip away, just know that before this song is over, you’ll be pathetically back at my doorstep asking me to enter.
    you see what i mean? i love that direct call and answer. i say, you answer. you please me, and i promise you’ll be taken care of. just turn off your mind and fill it with me. you won’t have to worry or cry — but even if you do, we’ll handle that too.
does this make any sense, my fellow freaks, or is this just not my audience at the moment?

  it feels like someone’s who doesn’t just want compliance, they want to live inside the other person’s mind.

Remembering.

  PLAY TRACK: THE SECRET LIFE OF DAYDREAMS

  Your hands past my neck, down to my shoulders, and effortlessly gliding across my back. Each nail that grazes me sends a jolt not only throughout my body but to my mind. You’ve filled me with thoughts of summertime, playful hues scattering across the board, building an image I’ve long forgotten. Yes, this is what truly matters — a little time where you and I are no longer individuals, but simply all in the same energy. We become one, but just for a moment, where nothing else in the world feels significant.

  I hope to experience this feeling again. You remind me of what a privilege it is to have memory — to recall moments both sweet and sour, to know and feel the weight attached to them, and to recognize them as something real. Something true to you, and you only.

  In my mind, you will never die. No matter how much time passes, the moments we spent together — the days that are now long gone will never dwindle. For if not these moments, I’d be a much crueler man now.

Who is this writing even about?

Too much at once, I fear. So try not to break your mind apart trying to connect it to a single thing. That would be your first mistake.

Oh, okay. I guess that makes sense. Yeah.

Apperance

PLAY TRACK: PRETTY GIRLS

    If I was smaller and cuter, would you consider me? Maybe it’s stupid, maybe it’s cruel, but I’ve begun to grow tired of this. My only hope is that one day my physical self will no longer deter you from allowing yourself to be loved by me.

Love is a strong word, but I want to care for you. I want to soak your tears into my skin and count the lashes on your eyes. You remind me so much of a dog, and I want to own you.

Like a pet, like a lover, like you’re the dearest thing to me. Let me put out my smokes on you and brand myself onto you. I don’t want you to forget the sensation.

I want to treat you right. I want to make you happy. I want to know what it feels like to have your eyes glued onto mine, two spheres unable to trail anywhere else.

Is that selfish of me to want? You will never see me for who I am, rather what I present physically, and that’s okay. I’ve learned to accept that, to accept this.

You make me cry, and I like it.

It makes me feel so real.

You made me feel real.

Feliz Birthday!!11!!111!

PLAY TRACK: UNTIL ITS TIME FOR YOU TO GO

50 years old
21 years old

A day apart.

You’re not so young anymore, are you?

No, I’ve grown older, haven’t I?

Yes, but that is a part of life. You will grow and grow and grow until one day it just all stops.

Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh. I don’t think I can write anymore for this page.

That’s okay, you don’t have to.

But I need to.

You don’t. You can always close your eyes and start again tomorrow.

Am I really allowed to?

Mhm, like you wouldn’t even believe. So go ahead, get some rest.

Ahh. Okay. Good night.

Sweet Dreams, Vee.

You too, 6V.

Not Real>>>?:""_+}???

PLAY TRACK: LA MER

    You are not real. You are simply the parts of my mind that wander when it slips away from my watchful eyes. Eagerly, it cups your hands, and all I can do is stare and watch as these false scenarios unfold. Before I know it, my mind has influenced my heart to pump sweet rushes of red that flood my cheeks and ears, causing my lungs to expand slowly and my fingertips to move across this keyboard.

    The memory of a person who does not exist drives me mad. Whoever you are, or whoever you may be, I already know that I love you. This tortures me. This tortures me with a feeling that suffocates me. I am sick of the things that have not happened yet. All the fights we will have and all the moments I pray you will run to my side again to make things right. Cradling your cheeks and holding your face like you are the most precious thing in existence, pressing my lips against your tear-stained face. I want to lick them off, tasting the saltiness of your pain. To remind me that your feelings are real, to remind me that you are real, to remind me that I never want to make you cry, if not out of pleasure.

    But we all know that is impossible. I will cry and so will you, but I hope you can dive into me like water and press your body into my shoulder and vanish like the sugar in my tea. I do not need you soft and easy. I just need you exactly as you are.

Ugh, this is getting strange, isn’t it?

    You are not real, but I want to tangle with you and fall into you and feel all of you. Your breath, your skin, your hands, all its divots and curves and edges, your hair, your heart. I want to feel it all. You are special in my heart, to the person who does not exist. I can love you without knowing you because I can love me. I am simply extending my heart to you. We will lie on a cold wooden floor, and one heart is mine and two will belong to you. I cannot control this level of yearning. I just love so much, so completely.

    I do not want this to be me creating an idealized version or mold for you to fit into. I just know that whatever quirks or habits you may have, or will have, or even lose, I want the privilege to love it all as it is, not as whatever you may think I want it to be.

    I think all I ask is that you love me the same. The same as I love you, the same as I think of you, stranger. Allow me to be real to you, wherever you are.