i crave you like a crave ice cream on a random midnight evening
i mean, i miss you. and i wanna tell you this but i decided not to because the fear of another no and any kind of rejection from you overpowers me.
"For, after all, you do grow up, you do outgrow your ideals, which turn to dust and ashes, which are shattered into fragments; and if you have no other life, you just have to build one up out of these fragments. And all the time your soul is craving and longing for something else. And in vain does the dreamer rummage about in his old dreams, raking them over as though they were a heap of cinders, looking in these cinders for some spark, however tiny, to fan it into a flame so as to warm his chilled blood by it and revive in it all that he held so dear before, all that touched his heart, that made his blood course through his veins, that drew tears from his eyes, and that so splendidly deceived him!"
idk why i still share shit even if i feel like you don't really care.
no, you're not interested. i mean you don't even ask me how i am/how my week was or something like that shit. i mean idk. like idk.
the flickering embers of the rapidly dying cigarette spoke to me:
nothing. same shit. i mean, nothing new.
i guess i just feel helpless. you know that feeling when you feel alone because you know you really can't do about a certain situation? it fuckin sucks man. but that is life. that happens. change happens. people make decisions. people change. there are situations that you have no power or control at all.
motherfucking shit i feel so powerless whenever i see shit. and by shit i mean their shit together. it rips and tears me apart into tiny lil burning pieces like the beautiful orange micro embers that forms a flowery pattern at each cigarette i smoke.
i can't sleep. i tried to drown myself with 5 mugs of coffee. it's 5 am now. i think. i have a job later. i want to smoke. i want to have a discussion with you about change. i just read sandman: brief lives. life and hopefully (pain) and other shit would feel brief as well. i am angry still. or irritated. or something. i should never check his instagram. i mean fuck them both. hard. in their motherfucking ass. two years more neko, we'll see. hopefully the pain and shit will expire by then. i mean, look at me telling my friends that "happiness is a motherfucking choice" but here i am, still feeling the blow of being replaced by idk. in any case, despite the fact that i will see you in a month or so, i miss you. and good lord i am motherfucking excited to see you. i think i just have to disensitize myself with their shit. i mean, i do not need his love. i do not need his validation. lots of people want me in their lives. so fuck them who don't want me at all. fuck them. haha. i am titanium. i am echoing my playlist. cause i have an elastic heart. you go sia! haha. i swear i am not high. i tried to sleep but weird dreams haunt me. not bad though. just felt like there were creatures crawling at my skin. neko, be strong. do not fucking die on me okay?
i remember saying i don't know when you asked me "how did we get here?'
and by that you mean how did we get to be naked in the middle of a hot make-out session after several months of not being intimate with each other.
although i am physically tired and most of my senses are high as a kite, my brain still works perfectly.
i mean for the record, here's what happened:
i think i fell asleep sideways beside you as the hobbit: desolation of smaug plays on your tv. i have no intentions of touching you. i mean my mind dreams of it but last night i am summoning all of my courage to not touch you and to not place myself in any situation where can hurt me again.
in any case, you came closer to me. or your body came closer to me. from behind you spooned me and hugged me. it felt nice. i do not know how to react so i just let the situation take care of itself. plus as i have mentioned i am motherfucking high as shit.
then in the midst of spooning me, your hand went inside my boxers and grabbed my dick and then jerked me off. you stopped. at the back of my neck you almost kissed me. i felt your warm breath enveloping my back. i have to admit it felt nice.
after few minutes or hours (the hobbit is already done) our already sweaty bodies broke off each other. i veered towards the right, you to the left. and then minutes later you spooned me again, was kissing my neck, then jerked me off. good lord that felt nice so i reacted. i twisted my body to face you. you hugged me. closer. our throbbing members rubbing against each other. i tried to kiss you. you resisted. i tried to kiss you. you moved your face away. i tried to kiss you but you closed your lips as if i am some scary shit in front of you. dude that hurts man. i mean, fuck you. i know you woyld rather kiss a motherfucking stranger than me. but hey, fuck you.
then that's the moment when you asked me that fucking question of "how did we get here?"
i persisted. i got the kiss the i wanted. i know you want tol fuck yo i miss you and somehow deep inside me i know that you miss me too.
i miss your body. i miss being intimate with you.
but never again will any intimacy tie me and my emotions to nyone, especially you.
like what i have been telling myself over and over again: never ever let yourself be hurt again.
you will go home from work
tired, sore, stressed and ready to
let go of your day
cute puppies would greet you
then you have people to share your day with
but point is they are your friends who you usually see whenever
you want to
smoke a bowl
or eat midnight snacks
and get high
like you have your room there
your newly cleaned and re-arranged room and
semi-soft bed waiting for you
but you have that tiny
connecting your room to your friends' room
so whenever you
want to play
or just talk
you'll know he's baked when he starts to play that vine of a tragic basketball dunk with a laughing african american girl on the background.
that would trigger minutes of non-stop laughter while the high-pitched annoying laugh would continue to play on loop. then you could not help but look at his set of puppy eyes/ those motherfucking puppy smile.
he is eating now. i guess it is a good sign that he trusts me now. it's been days and he never asked for food. i rarely see him eat. (must be that fuckin model diet) so today must be a good day because the motherfucker finally ate something.
warm bodies is playing on tv. i am loving this film. the parody, the comedy., it is charming, it is smart. the person beside me may be charming. smart? i dunno. in any case, he is cute.
i gave him a pocky. he devoured the whole pack. he also ate sinigang. then requested for another pocky. damn he is hungry today.
at the sea of smokes and sound an old soul trapped inside a boy's body stands still.
movement is not necessary in this place.
vapors creating random patterns of smoke with psychedelic colors move in sync with the music playing inside his being- from the hard beating of the bass drums of his heart, to the clashing cymbals at his head, to the various melodies and lyrics of disgust, hate, excitement, lust, happiness, longing, anger, frustration and all other feelings concocted inside him to the harsh strums of memories triggering a myriad of psychedelic experiences all at the same time.
he loves music. recently, most of his favorite songs from u2's with or without you to radiohead's creep to misterwive's refelctions to lana del rey's westcoast to sia's chandelier calms the fuck out of his chaotic being.
he can buy some really good earphones or that fucking expensive beats by dre headphones and then drown himself with the sea of some really good music that stirs him deep down.
it's like smoking. listening to music, that is.
he always think it's like jumping into that big fluffy sea of clouds when you are riding an airplane.
smoke fascinates him. with enough smoke, he creates temporary clouds. his own clouds.
he seems to not feel much these days. it has been months since it rained on his face. his eyes are dry. his chest always beats that hard kind of bass drop beat but he cannot let tit out.
perhaps he thinks the temporary clouds he create from the smokes he produced with nicotine and weed is a good temporary fix.
he is not lost in the sea of smokes and sounds. he stands still. listening, feeling, trying to express. hoping not to explode like the macro vision of himself one night when every tiny bit of sound made his veins, his organs, his chest, his heart, his ears and his brains explode in not blood but a colors. colors with sounds.
i am high as fuck right now.
again, another time of doing this with someone else aside form you.
no. this is not my first time getting high with a tranger. though this ain't a stranger no more. we've been together for the past couple of days. a kid. way younger than me. and by kid i meant someone who likes to party and shit.
i am high as fuck right now
and i have never seen the beauty of the embers of a burning cigarette before.
it's like my eyes became my 50mm lens with 1.8 , no make that 1.4 aperture.
motherfuckinshitballs the emers dude they look wonderful. with some fiery floral patterns that resemble those stained-glass from the old churches. fuck man this is so cool.
like burn man.
and smoke, of course.
over the past couple of days different parts of me have been collectively inspiring me to message you and tell you how much i miss you.
there is a cacophony of various whispers in my head.
different versions of: "can we sleep together again?" and "can i kiss you?" and "can i cuddle with you?"would echo back and forth your brain as it gets louder and louder down to your chest.
then at the chest area you will experience that loud bang. that loud thud. that loud motherfucking blow of emotion that you don't want to feel. well shit like those happens.
and really, even as i am typing this i am so tempted to grab my phone and send you a message but i guess my fear of another NO and rejection from you is stronger nowadays.
it's like the other day when one of my recent crush told me out of the blue this statement:
"as much as i like you because you are so handsome, smart and really charming, i want you to understand that i will never pursue any romantic or physical relationship with you."
his statement totally crushed me. not because i like him so much that i felt so fuckin rejected but because hsi statement resonates so strongly with what you always tell me: 1. that you do not reciprocate any romantic love from me 2. that despite the fact that you like me, i am smart, charming, etc, you can never be in a relationship with me 3. that i deserve someone better 4. that you can never be committed and monogamous 5. that you don't wanna have sex with me anymore (though you do not deliberately express that)
i miss you. you fucker. i will probably just keep it here. why? because the probability of you reading my thoughts from this space is zero. because you don't have the time. because you simply do not care.
the back of one of the chairs of the train was tagged with a jagged heart with the words:
"i love you george. i love you my punk!"
it seemed like it was etched by a really sharp object. most probably a tiny knife of sort.
it is short, sweet and motherfuckin memorable.
i swear if someone would do the same to me, i would melt on the spot like the dozens of ice creams that i have consumed for the past year or so.
the person who did it is brave enough to record his/her profesison of love on teh fuckin backseat of a motherfuckin public train.
a girl on a wheelchair who looks like a more beautiful version of lady gaga (probably because of her nose and eye make-up) boarded the car with her tall friend wearing an all black booty shorts, some nice boots and fitted black shirt.
a man wearing a fedora followed them.
they all reek of alcohol.
the guy is tall. wearing an all black ensemble with a fedora hat as an accent to his balding head.
i sat a few seats away from them. i was anticipating morpheus' arrival when an obnoxious fight ensued among the three.
shouting, bickering and smart-assing happened.
they fought over a pen.
lady gaga on a wheelchair and her friend sat beside me.
after the fedora guy left, they both laughed and screamed "never trust a guy with a fedora"
trackback to the amtrak train aka hogwarts express a few hours earlier.
went to the bathroom to relieve my bladder. i was in the middle of peeing when the door slid open.
a family saw me.
they were in shock.
going back to the crazy red line post-midnight trip:
an african-american girl with her girlfriend boarded the train from hollywood. a few stops later, the other girl unleashed almost a bucket of poorly concocted undigested cereals, meet stuff and alcohol. nasty shit-ass fuck.
my train car became a party car. you can hear cheers. people snapping photos and taking videos of the poor girl throwing up.
while all of this is happening, a tall, handsome manly dude kept smiling at me. he winked before he exited the door.