papercutbliss

i have a new domain.

random shit, deep shit, memoirs, photography, etc. it is still very new, still adding content.

holler at me for the URL.

do something nice for yourself today.

til next time.

i will be writing again soon. i find that when i don't write regularly, i get these crazy monstrous headaches. i guess 'cause i'm not releasing or some shit. anyway, i'll be by to visit all my regs soon. peace.

-j.

i'm wandering this now foreign road to your heart, a road i used to know better...no, wholly. trying to remember, trying to recall my way there. out of sheer curiosity, i guess...or some sick fascination i might have with train wrecks. either way, you've changed so many things around...shit's intimidating. each step i take, it feels as if you're gonna come out of nowhere like some mad vengeful entity and punish me for even having the nerve to proceed. these dark beastly trees along the road are so threatening...and these skies i once marveled over with delight are no longer blue, no longer soulful. i look at them now and they're off black, storm-ridden, pained...and this realization immediately saddens me more than you know because i know it's a reflection of how you feel about me, and i can't get my emotions back together fast enough before you rush to scrutinize my flaw in agility. your bitterness is alive and real, and i get it; i know i could've tried to rectify this rift ages ago...but believe me when i say i'm sorry, mainly for turning you into someone afraid to admit you still have a heart, forbidding access to it even...because you don't want anyone else discovering you have more love to give, for fear of them doing damage too. you let me in just long enough to see the damage i've done, just long enough for me to feel some kinda guilt. you tell me i caused pain, drove it deep into you like a stake...coldly, precisely. to be real, i thought you were trying to kill me. i wanted to get you first. but i'm aware i killed other things in the process...beauty, TRUST, symmetry - all victims of my misguided selfishness. i destroyed these things, and i can't rebuild. there is no resurrecting the dead that is us, and that's the way it's supposed to be. certain kinds of hurt in this world are meant to be left alone, and you accept that and move on..

i love your games of wild eroticism. they’re to die for - while cumming hard. you are fresh blood on snow, a warning that flirts and teases. my palms get tingly, and i get excited, peculiarly turned on. naughty boy…my lusty knight, i can’t help but to think that…if i were to give you the nod, you’d surely lure all the curvy, panty-less girls into nocturnal freakdom. that’s why i don’t take you and your…(giggle) and your….(mmm) for granted. i’m lucky enough to know nothing compares to being drenched in ample darkness with you. i love how we are together: two freaks frolicking in their quiet world of wet perversion. we fully concentrate on the art of pleasure, oblivious to anything that might jeopardize the experience. you can say we’re something like…night’s sweet, wicked core of attraction. don’t you love it, baby? oh, you’re so good. my sexy shadow wants to play and get fucked too...

update: (the audio version)

update #2: photo removed from post.

how the fuck can i
give this thing the zen approach
when you ravage me

over and over
again and again and i
feel cells depleting

tis autumn mourning
and winter is in my eyes
killing sensations

a love fades away
blown by the tides of the wind
never seen again
but a scent screams memory
sour fumes of betrayal

gotta phone call from an ex the other night, wondering if i believed in man-made destiny. having control of something as large as life only lasts so long is what i told him. a lonely street soldier with unsightly scars. he has one eye now, lost the other in a gun war a few years ago. tragedy has been his trademark since conception; acidic sperm in a broken cunt, a seed of rape. he revealed all this and much more to me between strong pulls of smoke in cadwalader park, '99. that same night, he took me to his sister’s place and tasted me…his blunt-scented lips between my legs. my hips jutted forward eagerly with each thrust of his tongue. i tried to birth a cure into his mouth, poured all my compassion into him, but my sweetness couldn’t kill the curse…
“fuck destiny. i already know she has a hit out on me,” he said sardonically. i snickered, told him to stop being so morbid, though i knew some parts of him were already dead, minus heart and strength. he told me he loved and valued me, believed it all. i couldn’t be what i once was to him, but i vowed to always be his friend…true and near in spirit. after we hung up, i tossed and turned, thinking i wouldn’t hear from him for another six months and what torture that would be. i didn’t wanna get a phonecall about him being dead like i did with my first knight. i threw back the sheets and took a deep breath, allowed my mind blissful memories…like how we used to go to cadwalader after dark to philosophize about life’s highs and lows. it seemed the park was our sanctuary away from everything…all the time....days, seasons. one winter night was king…sliding across the icy basketball court, holding on to each other’s bubble parka, falling eventually…him on top of me, both of us smiling frivolously til he kissed me with unmatchable tenderness. we were oblivious to the dope-sick zombies passing by the fence…'cause at that moment, in that trickle of time, it was the perfect place to be.
impulsively, i got out of bed to email one of his closest homies, telling him to keep watchful tabs for me. my boy is a chronic wanderer, and i get paranoid. sometimes i wonder if being nomadic is his way of seeing freedom.
.................................
insomnia pimps this bitch at night. eyes rimmed with the debris of distorted dreams, body moves slow like it’s trudging through molasses. i’m living in fatigue-plagued hours, can’t control this surreal life. it feels like an out-of-body experience sometimes, but when it cuts and stings badly, there’s no denying it’s real.