shock, from moment to moment, tranquility to chaos, did you feel that pain in your chest the one that grips your heart like a vice?
yes, we felt it.
there's no mercy in her eyes, that penetrating tongue speaks with forked lightning, you're stunned into silence, no where to move, she's started her assault and now you're frozen, like a startled rabbit in her searchlights. the naked breakfast, didn't make lunch, didn't even finish the hash browns. digging up the past, a place you attempt to avoid, unless your writing, especially this past, our past, the one that left you hate filled and a fucking looser to everything you dislike in other people, the one that took you down that fucking awful road of smoke and fucking broken mirrors distorting everything until you smashed your brain and found something different to invest in.
the anger is primary red, it does not oozes the way my anger would, hers is like like a million arrows raining down, all directed at the same place, that achilles heart.
you can't answer these questions, you can't think because your in some sort of weird after shock treatment, you can't even breathe, but never the less you remarkably still feel safe.
fleeting thoughts enter your head but they can't form, the relentless onslaught a barrage of weaponary that is personal and professional, and they meet in the middle, cross over, warped histories, mine yours theirs. everyone had their say, everyone getting their rocks off as strings are pulled hearts get broken, and that first time, we both got sucker punched, you in your self righteousness and me in mine, but at the back of the mind we know, it's undeniable we were victims of second hand gossip and whispers and lies, other peoples hidden agendas.
captain mission, you know your memory is fucked up, you know you once had a heart filled with hate, you know you were ignoble and your behaviour was questionable, you know you brain betrays you when you try to articulate the experience, you know that it's irrational and you know you were hurt deeply and hurt back deeply, but it’s an unobtainable science, reduction won’t work here, the scalpel will blunt, the incisions just reveal mist and blood, mine, is that what you want to do?
a social worker mind cannot uncover this mystery, any answers won't be the ones that satisfy, sure i'll take all responsibility, be your enemy all you have to do is tell me my role and i'll play my part, bear your hate for as long as you bared mine, longer, i'll do that if it sets you free, but it won't, you know that. your smart as well as beautiful but your not smart enough to bear some responsibility, i wasn't in a relationship with myself, was i?
you know these things but to piece them all together is like asking a child to explain the theory of relativity.
does she not think you have tried, wasted endless nights pondering how hate corrupted me, how inversely proportional hate equates to love. that my hate for her revealed a lack of love for myself.
what is lost is lost, what is gone is gone, only in the mind of ghosts does it exist, only in the mind of the voyeurs of utter destruction, schadenfreude, only in the dredged and well trawled ocean floors like gossip magazines in doctors waiting rooms can we salvage the unsalvageable and what do we uncover is worthless, old news and misrepresented personalities. was it worth it for you, to see my tears, i hope so?
hate has turned full circle, can you feel it captain mission?
yes, i feel it.
it is what i am here for. i expected this on some level. didn't i?
healing takes so many forms.
why these cycles repeat themselves unto me, my hate my love, it's the great cancelling out, the awkward neutrality within, it's terrible inquisition where the one you love tortures you slowly and emotionally cripples you as you must have her, it's a karmic execution and it's the bulls eye of the full cycle, here an angry god resides, here amongst the truth that we danced around, here is our redemption, if such a thing is possible. i believe it, i've always seen that glass over spilling until some one else tells me i'm delusional, stupid and barking up the wrong tree. fuck them! what do they know, there are very few people who get me, very few.
what do they fucking even know of me!
nothing, nothing nothing they see me at a place of work and all of a sudden they know me, want to be my friend. im an unknowable one to almost everyone, save those that know and the plant medicine spirits.
i am destroyed, i am hated, i am nothing but my own obliteration, the sooner i leave this veil of tears the better, (for disappointment is endless, life is suffering and nothing quite makes me as sad as being happy,) but not without tying up my loose ends, i've always been over responsible.

i need love right now because there's fear growing inside and it’s not the type of fear that turns me on. it's the fear of knowing i could never live up to my own standards, i'm washed up on a shoreline of hurt to deep for tears, i can't find a way out except to move forwards and face that fear, that's what i do. isn't it?

somewhere i scream out. somewhere i lash back and yell, ‘don't you know how i cry myself to sleep every fucking night thinking about my lost time, you can't hurt me more than that. years are gone from me, whole years. all i have is my intuition and i'm sticking with it cos it got me here, yes, i liked these moments with you. just not this one, right now becuase it's breaking me.’

but that's not facing fear is it, that’s a weak cop out. isn't it?

in your reality your reality becomes my reality, this reality.
actually it's really all unreal. it's better if we don't invest in it, just trust your heartbeat, the rest will lead you astray, my nature is my intuition, it's all i know now, because everything else has let me down, my emotions, my intellect, my passion, even love, and all i know is i have a prime directive to myself that is much older than you. to be safe. this is no veiled jab at physical danger or threat from the harsh realities of life's responsibilities, i acknowledge i'm a tragedy, a looser, a glorious underachiever, struggling just to turn up to work on the right day. i struggle with the things every one else finds so easy, paying a bill, remembering a birthday, filling in a form, these things require so much energy from me, concentration and discipline, this is your reality, whereas mine is filled with energetic forms, manipulation of currents that ebb and flow, the intention, the will, the acquisition of harmony against discord, the warrior nature, the self healing, the healing of those i love and care deeply about, the evolution of my own consciousness and white magick.
yours appears in a different form, equal but different but alien to me. it is the world of maya.
you want answers to things that lay so lost to me, i only have strange answers that will never satisfy you, i'm ashamed to say even I gave up looking for them. when they come they come, and i don't attach much to them, they just are what they are, experiences. the important factor is uncovering why they manifest in the pattern they do and looking at the karma it brings.
i did a terrible wrong and the result has been ten years of filling my heart with dope to anaesthetises whatever fucking pain i carried, it's been so long i can't even remember the pain or the cause only that it cut deep, only you were part of that hurt, and my pain goes back even further to something darker that i clawed my way out, only just.
yeah my cupboards have skeletons, ghouls, ghosts, zombies and a fucking host of nasty little energies that would love to take me out. but i fucked them over a long time ago and i won those battles alone, but the war baby, the war is forever, it’s the forever war. i may have exorsised my demons but they exist in others therefore they are a part of myself i recognize as my enemy. the people may be very nice, yeah brilliant people with great hearts but the intention is something ugly, i know because that was my hate. i learnt how to forgive and it's not through forgetting, it's really difficult to forgive but it's a good thing to strive towards, it's a banishing ritual.
the gita states, 'the only war worth fighting is the war within.'
i am a fighter, because to be a lover you have to fight battles and i fought and won most but lost some and you were one i lost. and in defeat i was defeated and corrupted with self loathing and some other dark energy, resulting in this drama.
what can i do?
i am sorry.
i am terribly hurt that you feel this way still.
that you hurt.
i am sorry.
i had a strange feeling of being unsafe sometimes in our previous relartionship. how can i know this? i can't know this, except by intuition. unless i dig up a history by asking the players at the time, but there's no point, the past is the fucking past, it's not influencing anything for me except on an energetic level, as karma does. i don't care about those personalities, i was not in love with them, i wasn't having a relationship with them, they were your friends, not mine. from what i recall they always had their own motives and desires, they didn't harmonise with mine and as risky as it is to confess, they certainly didn't have your well being at heart.
so what are we to do, with this.
i don't know. i need to heal. i feel a little wounded but i will be okay. this had to happen in a perverse way i'm glad it did. but i don't understand why it came out the way it did, it was crass and harsh and could have been executed with much more sophistication and elegance. suffice to say, it did and i'm a little fucked now, drained and plagued with shame and guilt, whatever fragile ego i had needs a little nurturing, a little love please.