laughter; to stand it.

you can't save someone, but can you keep them alive by loving them?

not even loving - not even. can you sustain them by caring? is that too simple of a sentiment? or is that me being dillusional and falling back into the trap i love to hate? i might as well ask if you can presume need though physical action. or is our blood so conveluted with the exsistential predisposition towards lust that such a presumption is an imposibility? and if so how can you tell what is sincere and what is obligatory? what feels right versus what you know should be right.

maybe my real issue tonight is the expression of need. i spent years needing someone to need me - needing to be enough. funny thing, the second i recognized that and stopped needing it, he started to need me back. it was a confession to late and an ommision short lived.

how cliche.
i am at the same place i have been time and time and time and time and time again . . but this time feels different? or pathetically the same. . i have yet to decide which.


* * *

i went back. at one in the morning i went back to find out. its how it should have been to start with but it's too late. or how it's supposed to be. but part of me is curious? or nostalgic? or . . lonely.

i've cared so hard and he's still here; alive and in my life. but what is sustinance? a need or rather something that when obtained fulfills a need. so his need for me to care was fulfilled by my need for him to survive - which was consequently brought about by my caring for him regardless.

it's circular and profound.
and my desire to feel what should be right vs. what is right is in a sense null and void. right?

need is organic, lust is intrinsic but survival is always the goal. so does it even matter what gets us through? what makes us whole - or atleast creates the illusion of wholeness.

anchor: twice removed

how do you know when to worry about an absence of feeling? or about the perpetual presence of simple, superficial annoyance?

i save my emotional intensity for 3 situations. that '73 pinto, my dirty little secret, and the present (whoever/whatever that may be). not the healthiest way to experience things - but honestly what is?

the problem? i didn't feel anything tonight, not with the "secret." in fact i was almost annoyed that i was numb/dry - unfazed. it is simply the passive attempt at faking normalcy which i have come to perfect. tonight i longed for something or anything different. alien; not him.

i despise the present "situation" in its entirety, i don't want to touch it with a 10 foot pole. it's just so androgynous.

nothing i even remotly want.

and the "pinto" is now being used as a catalyst - as inspiration - to meet a deadline. emotionally i have been shut off. (atleast in the sense of living/evolving emotion, as i would hate to contradict the principles of inspiration and all. .) i'm eerily devoid of any sense of right/wrong according to him and flushed of all obligation. which is, as i've said, a long time coming and a good thing.

i pull them toward me; because i am lonely. i crave familiarity when it is at my disposal (which is rare), and i guess this is a desire to feel old comfort, it's taking bits and pieces of myself back after all these years.

(it's good, probably healthy. cut ties and get on with my life from here. but the feeling isn't settling well inside me. at least not right now.)

needless to say fragile identities are broken when the familiar is no longer. i've changed. . true. but so has the gravity of all of these relationships. so has the dynamic of need and want.

it's a poetic obligation?

to me that's fairly sad.