closer to the edge...
each day that passes, i know, by logic, that i'm closer to my end. what frightens me though is how i find that there is a mixture of how i am orchestrating my end, both by my own actions, thoughts, and deeds, combined with the mechanisms of how the universe around me operates. it's a dance of death, this life. i can't believe i've lasted as long as i have. and more than ever i'm feeling greatly tired of being here.
i hate pornography. if i were a mercenary i would hunt it down like a despised politician and assassinate it i hate it so despisedly. It's ruined me as a lover in this lifetime. pure truth. i lie not. it's been a curse upon me since i first discovered copies of dad's playboy magazines that were hidden in the garage when i was a boy. a fascination and fear of women was instilled inside of me that made it forever impossible for me to have natural occurring experiences with women. I once had a naturally occurring experience with a woman, but I never will again. And i am so broken hearted to say that this seems to be the crux of what will be the crushing defeat of my life. the thing that will destroy me. that i cannot have the peace that comes from that conjoined companionship.
i feel so sad tonight because i have such a beautiful friendship with the most remarkable person i've ever known, someone i believe i could be wonderfully conjoined with in all fulness of a relationship with, yet she refuses to see the potential of being with me this way, and is off away pursuing love encounters with strangers, despite the fact that i am the one person that already knows and loves her the most. i feel so incomplete without her. don't get me wrong, i have lived my life alone, singly for the past 25 years and i expect that if i continually overcome my tendencies towards self destruction I could live another 25 years (alone) - so it's not a matter of not knowing how to be alone. its that when I am with her i am happy. i am really, really happy. and that is all based on the non-romantic type of friendship that we simply have.
i am still a sexually driven beast though, and despite the fact that i know of ways to keep the ideas of the need for sex from being a punishing force, there are times when i get manic rushes of energy and imaginations. these are, and will continue to diminish as my body ages more, and as my spirit loses, spirit.
i don't really know at this point what it is i'm going on living for anymore. i have no more grand plans. i'm done with the photography. my writing is crap. "the novel" is a joke, it always has been. no one even has any interest in critiquing it as i write it. i don't know any serious writers that think i'm worth the bother of giving any coaching or encouragement to. which is good, because i should not be encouraged. i should be ignored so that i'll stop doing it. theres so much more i want to say, that i could say. but i can't keep my eyes open any longer now.
i hate pornography. if i were a mercenary i would hunt it down like a despised politician and assassinate it i hate it so despisedly. It's ruined me as a lover in this lifetime. pure truth. i lie not. it's been a curse upon me since i first discovered copies of dad's playboy magazines that were hidden in the garage when i was a boy. a fascination and fear of women was instilled inside of me that made it forever impossible for me to have natural occurring experiences with women. I once had a naturally occurring experience with a woman, but I never will again. And i am so broken hearted to say that this seems to be the crux of what will be the crushing defeat of my life. the thing that will destroy me. that i cannot have the peace that comes from that conjoined companionship.
i feel so sad tonight because i have such a beautiful friendship with the most remarkable person i've ever known, someone i believe i could be wonderfully conjoined with in all fulness of a relationship with, yet she refuses to see the potential of being with me this way, and is off away pursuing love encounters with strangers, despite the fact that i am the one person that already knows and loves her the most. i feel so incomplete without her. don't get me wrong, i have lived my life alone, singly for the past 25 years and i expect that if i continually overcome my tendencies towards self destruction I could live another 25 years (alone) - so it's not a matter of not knowing how to be alone. its that when I am with her i am happy. i am really, really happy. and that is all based on the non-romantic type of friendship that we simply have.
i am still a sexually driven beast though, and despite the fact that i know of ways to keep the ideas of the need for sex from being a punishing force, there are times when i get manic rushes of energy and imaginations. these are, and will continue to diminish as my body ages more, and as my spirit loses, spirit.
i don't really know at this point what it is i'm going on living for anymore. i have no more grand plans. i'm done with the photography. my writing is crap. "the novel" is a joke, it always has been. no one even has any interest in critiquing it as i write it. i don't know any serious writers that think i'm worth the bother of giving any coaching or encouragement to. which is good, because i should not be encouraged. i should be ignored so that i'll stop doing it. theres so much more i want to say, that i could say. but i can't keep my eyes open any longer now.
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