Posted by marko on 1/29/2007, 7:40 am first of all, i believe i was perfectly justified in doing it can be seen in the way she looks at you. it can be seen i may have said that you’re always in my heart as i was scene 209 i would like to know if there’s a grace period involved. scene 210 i don’t know what the policy is now. but when i was a
24.2.116.192
scene 206
what i did. but i suppose we can find justification in
anything with a few extra words inserted here & there,
or cropping a few inches off the corners, or setting
oneself up as the innocent victim, even a poor martyr.
first of all, you would have done the same thing if you
were in my place. but that’s something that i can’t prove
of course, & i admit i do get paranoid at times, & have
trouble trusting anyone—even you. first of all, what
was i going to do? i was backed against the wall. but
then i’ve been in similar tight spots all my life & didn’t
overreact like this. well, maybe once or twice. but i’m
talking on a consistent basis. first of all, if you’d just
listen & give me a chance to give you my side, i think
you may gain some understanding why i did what i did.
but i’m not exactly sure myself, so you would have to
explain it all to me. first of all, i have no idea why.
scene 207
in the speed & motion as she looks away. there are things
that reveal themselves to us as cold, hard, uncompromising
epiphanies. there are things we say we just know, though
if asked to explain we’d have no suitable answer. & does
the fact we “know” make it true beyond the tight parameters
of our reality? or are there other details that must also be
considered. looking away quickly is usually a bad sign. the
faster, the more disgusted with you, or with the situation, in
which you might play a much smaller roll than you imagined.
or it can means teardrops about to explode. slower would
imply some indecision. a chance that it may not be as
hopeless as you initially thought. when i began this, it
was to encompass all sides. but i’m dwelling on negative
appearances. not because i want to. not because i want
you to leave. but because i understand this better, than
what could be seen as a look of love.
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leaving. or as you were leaving. either way, i hope not.
what a horribly trite cliché. you wouldn’t have believed
a word of that. it wouldn’t matter if that was how i felt,
but found myself at a loss for something more poetic.
something that sounded more genuine yet polished &
brilliant. i remember us moving in opposite directions.
i’m certain of this. i remember how graceful you were,
while i stumbled over my own feet & tongue. i remember
how effortless it looked as you faded into another life,
while i searched frantically about. your forgetting bloomed
like a wild flower. i let go & immediately fell. you were
gone. i was still here.
but how could i phrase it without admitting guilt, or
making it appear as if bad intentions were brewing. so
instead i stand silently at the window, watching snow
fall. the snowflakes are a delicate, beautiful symmetry,
until they reach the ground, & become one of many,
indistinguishable from the rest. but they must land some
time, somewhere, as we must. unconcerned, or unaware.
maybe preferring to blend in, as the majority of us do.
personally i find this line of thinking undesirable,
repugnant. i’m trying to make a point. there’s a definite
connection between these thoughts & the mistake i
may or may not have made. but i think it would be best
if i wait until you’re gone. then write it down, where it
will make more sense.
teenager you could buy a switchblade, but only without
the spring. you had to purchase that separately & install
it youself. i see some knives as beautiful works of art.
i see others as simply weapons, to be used against one’s
enemies, or oneself if you are your own worst enemy.
i can understand varying degrees of self-loathing. but
one’s own worst enemy would be pushing it, since
there’s never a shortage of ruthless pricks, assholes,
sons-a-b###hes, & dangerous psychotics in the world.
there will always be someone who will cut you down
over a few words, or for a small amount of cash or
merchandize. i once made a fairly deep incision in my
right arm for reasons not clear to me. it didn’t require
stitches, but a few days later my entire arm was covered
with nasty looking red blotches. obviously an infection.
i considered going to get an antibiotic, but that would
have meant explaining what happened. my answer would
be relayed to the proper authorities for my own good.
but i didn’t. i couldn’t come up with a believable story.
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