Animal Sacrifice

The Old Testament is surely the most violent book ever assembled. Today, I have been empathizing with a major theme of the OT: being separated from Love. The cathartic drive to kill in order to demonstrate the frustration of being cursed to live apart from Love while being overwhelmed by its reality is suddenly powerfully familiar imagery to me.

I daresay I would do anything to be with her. Every time you fall in love it feels a little different; but this time it feels reciprocated, which is novel for me. It is inexplicable why I am so compelled to trust her after having had my heart broken multiple times before. Then again, I've always been tenacious. I am fully cognizant that I barely know her. But GODDAMN I love this girl. She is 2,485.86 driving miles away according to Mapquest. It hurts. I miss her profoundly.

This is unlike me. I am very used to doing my own thing and being alone. I am an independent person! Was. Now I'm a caged canary begging to be poked at. I am King Kong.

Could be worse....

Theme From Cyrano

What would you have me do?

Seek out some wealthy patron and crawl like a clinging vine up the lordly tree? Rising by deceit and trickery instead of my own strength?
No thank you.

Imitate what others do and dedicate my works to the rich in the hope of arousing a smile of recognition from some sterile face?
No thank you.

Breakfast everyday on insults, wear out my knees and warp my spine with endless bowing and groveling in the dust?
No thank you.

Become a master of hypocrisy and opportunism, never letting my right hand know what my left is doing? Burn incense for some glorified idol of the day? Pull all the proper strings?
No thank you.

Shall I become the captain of some literary cult by writing stupid love songs for wealthy widows and navigate to success with their sighs filling out my sails? Pay some publisher to print my poems and bribe some critic to review them?
No, thank you!

Shall I become the high priest of a petty group of hack writers who dine together once a week?
No, I thank you!

Shall I build my reputation on one flawless poem and never write another? Should I scheme to get my name mentioned in the columns of some newspaper and smack my lips over the little praises written about me?
No, thank you.

Shall I calculate and scheme, live in fear, make visits instead of rhymes, meet all the right people, seek introductions and favors?
No, thank you.
No I thank you . . .
And again, I thank you!

Oh my friend, I prefer to sing, to laugh, to dream, to travel light in my own way, to see things as they are, and speak out without fear, to cock my hat at any angle that I choose, to duel if necessary for a quick “yes” or “no.” I prefer to work alone without any thought of reward, to scorn fame for a journey to the moon. Never write a line that does not ring with sincerity. I shall be content with the fruits and flowers that grow in my garden, no matter how small, because they belong to me. Then if success should come my way, no tribute ever need be paid to Caesar, whatever fortune or misfortune that happens shall be mine and only mine.

And although I may never reach the stature of a great oak tree, I shall never be a parasitic vine. I will climb perhaps to no great height, but I will . . . climb . . . alone.

-translated by Frank Devenport (orig. Edmond Rostand)

Potential Land Mine

“Goodnight.”
Intending to reply in kind, but it somehow came out, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Immediate yet calm. Natural even.
…

She just said she loved me. Excited confused interrobang. Wait, did I say I love her? How the hell…? Why did I…? He counted the days again. Two weeks, one day, ten hours. Have I completely lost it again? I didn’t want this to happen. He realized he was holding his breath. Silence to his left, and he dared not move to peek. The inexplicable thing is I believe her. I don’t believe ANYBODY. In a world full of lies I believe this goddamn potential land mine.

Still silent.

She flies out in a few hours and I’ll never see her again anyhow. But I DO love her. In the morning I’ll tell her I really do love her. It’s only been two weeks, but I’ve figured out how she melts. If I’m lucky she’ll melt. I don’t know what to do after that.

He exhaled as unobtrusively as possible. He fell asleep fast. The alarm didn't go off in the morning.

H.

What's coming through is alive
What's holding up is a mirror
But what's singing songs is a snake
Looking to turn my piss to wine

They're both totally void of hate and
Killing me just the same now

The snake behind me hisses
What my damage could have been
My blood before me begs me
Open up my heart again

And I feel this coming over like a storm again now
Considerately

Venomous voice tempts me
Drains me bleeds me
Leaves me cracked and empty
Drags me down like some sweet gravity

Take me

The snake behind me hisses
What my damage could have been
My blood before me begs me
Open up my heart again

And I feel this coming over like a storm again now
And I feel this coming over like a storm again now

I am too connected to
Slip away fade away
Days away I still feel you
Touching me changing me
Considerately killing me
Considerately killing me again
Considerately killing me
Considerately killing me again

Without the skin here
Beneath the storm
Under these tears now
The walls came down

Once the snake was drowned
And as I look in his eyes
My fear begins to fade
Recalling all of the times

I could have cried then
I should have cried then

As the walls come down
And as I look in your eyes
My fear begins to fade
Recalling all of the times
I have died
I will die
It's all right
I don't mind
I don't mind
I don't mind

I am too connected to you to
Slip away fade away
Days away I still feel you
Touching me changing me
Considerately killing me
Considerately killing me again
Considerately killing me

-Tool