Wednesday, August 28, 2002


I felt it—that spark—my drug but she won’t give it to me. She felt it too but she denies it. Just like she denies everything pleasurable. What a lush word pleasurable is. That’s it, say it, slowly. Stretch it out, pleasurable. How very much like a kiss it is. Your lips come together on the “p” and then your mouth spreads a little when your tongue comes up to touch your teeth and lips on the “l’s” teasing just enough but leaving you wanting more. Mmmmm… nice.

“Gotta get up to get down / Gotta get up to get down / Ohh ohh baby baby / What’s there to think about baby / Ohh ohh baby baby” George Michael’s Fastlove, like my mood, like the sky, is dark and perfect. “…I won’t bore you with the details baby, gotta get there in your own sweet time, let’s just say that maybe you could help to ease my mind…but if you’re looking for fastlove if that’s love in your eyes…”.

Today is glorious—much cooler than it has been lately. I stepped outside this morning to feel the slightly chilled but still humid air wrap around me. I felt full as I took my first breath and a breeze came up and curled around my neck using my hair to tickle behind my ear. It’s dark, overcast; there’s a storm threatening to break through. I want to break through, break out, but she won’t let me.

Sometimes I feel like my alter ego is hiding—no lurking—just under the surface. She wants out so badly. I named her Scarlet because most of the time she makes me blush. Maybe she is the real me and the me that everyone else sees is not. How do you deal with the dark side of your personality in contrast and in conjunction to who I think I am, who I want to be, who I should be. Does everybody have a dark side? Am I just faking it? Should my biography be entitled “The Many Faces of …”?


Post a Comment

<< Home