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Lately I am thinking about Luis and I hate it. He is so awful. I think he is one of the main reasons for the pain in my life. We had an abusive relationship. It was emotionally abusive and it definitely was a relationship, even if it seemed less than that a lot of the time. He was so cruel and so stupid and I am shocked that he meant anything to me for so long. I am so smart and so nice that I can’t understand how that happened. I am in love with Rene and he is so sweet to me and sometimes it scares me that I think about Luis because how could I ever think of someone else? It makes me want to die to think of Rene thinking of someone else. So why would I ever think of this piece of shit over the sweetest person I’ve ever met? I love Rene so much. He is so cute. I love him. He is always doing the silliest things. He is so perfect for me: silly. Silly faces, silly voices, always silly. I am depressed without him.
I am starting to not believe in depression, but only happiness. I am starting to believe that nothing exists and it’s all a mirage. It’s all language and if I didn’t have words for it then it would still exist, or would it? Would something else exist? I think there is a whole mess of things that we are ignoring because there are no words for them. Would there be guilt without the word for it? Would we be able to do what we want? Would we be happy? I can’t help but look back to the sad times and miss them because I felt so much, or I felt so little, maybe I was numb, but it was so romantic and so blue and the sky matched the TV screen matched the carpet matched the walls of my bedroom matched my eyes, sometimes. Maybe I was just so high, and my brain was putting itself back together after too much acid. Too much acid, and shrooms, and ecstacy. That’s it, besides the pot. Back then I was caught up too much in language, which explained my unhappiness, and I wish I could relive it with the freedom of thoughtlessness. Though I have no desire to do any more drugs, because, and I am no conspiracy theorist, but I have come to the conclusion that our government and our society and the people in charge wants us to believe that the only way to expand our minds is by doing drugs, and not by being quiet and looking at things and listening and taking it in. They want us to believe we need drugs to get to some level we can’t get to on our own, and when I look at the people taking these hallucinogenic substances, I do not see content vials of meditation, but rather I see troubled youth (sometimes trapped inside grown bodies) who take these medications to escape their troubles, to block out, to cover up, when really they should be taking it in and letting it absorb them whole. You do not need drugs to be absorbed whole. Drugs will only pull you down until you want to come back up, and what a fucking nightmare that is, trying to get anywhere near the wholly absorbed vials. These vials are people, or they contain people, or rather they contain the atoms that make up a person. And really they’re not vials at all, your atoms touch and mingle the atoms of the man you hold, flesh to flesh, tattooed, freckled, dark, pale, healthy, whatever. And the people are made of the atoms and so are the flowers and the dirt and the water and the gas, the fucking gas, the smell of shit, it’s all made of the same stuff and we’re all floating around. I don’t need to waste my time being stupid, wearing crazy garbs, snorting fucking shit, hanging out with bad spirits (who often times are only talking to you so that maybe they can put their weiner in your vagina-hole), drinking, taking pictures. That wouldn’t make me cool. And if it did, it would make me sick. I already know I’m made of the same atoms as fucking Stevie Wonder and Madlib and Arnold Schwarzenegger and all of my heroes and I’m made out of the same atoms as shit and slime and waste so I don’t need to compete. I hope you think I’m comatose and boring.
Art:
maryhoulihan.blogspot.com
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