bleh

The Calculated Step Between Ambivalence & Apathy

Johann Sebastian Bach was one of the most influential composers in history. His genius was matched only by his self loathing and hatred. I think I am collapsing, like the walls of certainty has certainly cracked and the first parts of me to leak out are all of those defense mechanisms I hold so dear. I am so sorry you are here. You are here for my aside. The audience to my thoughts. Do not be foolish enough to let the characters in the scene know what is happening, for then the drama, in the Burkean sense, would devolve to melodrama and the message would lose meaning in presentation, like a Shakespearean Rodeo. My strength has yet again foresaken me in my weaker moments when steam of consciousness evokes more than I had known about myself. Superflously. I think that was a vocabulary word I was supposed to know a few years ago, back when I was brilliant and my grade points averaged A...A...a. Bach, lost his ability to hear after he was already an established composer. He could never physically hear the music he composed but he reached a point when he did not have to. He could only hear the music he wished to synthesize. Life hits a new pensive low when my apathy could be mapped and predicted accurately. No, it isn't apathy. I care. I care so much. Imagine a point in time, when this was indented and punctuated in a sensical way but it seems that as my thoughts delve into each other my sentences meet one another in the hopes that this too could be explained away. The truth is, is that I don't know what this means. Its ambivalence. I remember a time when I was smarter and I could correct my parents in the ways of vernacular, for I was a master and they were observers. My mother mostly, my father was a participant. It was like a game show and we would learn and laugh and love together, and my mother told me I was shit, and ate, and cried, and lost sleep over it. Steam of consciousness was not a typo. My mother, when we talked, would confuse apathy and ambivalence. It is a common mistake. Or maybe I just started writing what I really wanted to say randomly to throw off anyone who dare peers in. Apathy is disintrest and ambivalence is feeling torn. In a way, to ambivalent is to care and to be apathetic is to not. She would use it incorrectly all the time. I am certain she still does. She floats in more high brow circles now. I wonder if more educated people know she is faking it. Brilliant composition however, is not just in the end product but in its journey into fruition. Bach was a genius. I say these things as if I am an expert of sorts, as if I know. What is worse is that I am unable to distinguish my different characteristics, I don't what I am right now. I guess I really am Lost.

Late At Night

The Pitfalls of Homeostasex by Fact or Fiction

The only thing I have failed more than science class,

Is love,

Which makes me an expert at both.

The sort of class you take to fail

Fearing you might

Knowing you will

But the teacher is so hot

And you are willing to be taught

So you sit back enjoy the view

Listen to lectures about Punnet Squares and particles

Until your head explodes.

Up and down

Over and over

Ebb and flow

Of our viscous liquids entwined.  

Wrap your mind around my fingers

Then surrender to my touch.  

Let’s find out where babies come from

Then fuck like it could would never happen

Apathetic to detection

Laid down

Face down

Lab table entry

But even this becomes routine

Like clock work

1...2...3 minutes maybe

And I am drained by our banality

Of cheap sexual pleasures

The pitfalls of homeostasex

That Relationship that I am Totally Not In

So I work and work and work a lot and its beginning to wain, this feeling of committment we are supposed to have, because to be honest, its easy to feign committment when I am not pursuing anyone. Am I cheating you or are you holding onto something you know you can't have?

Just because we sleep together in the same bed doesn't mean we are together, in fact it feels worse. It feels isolated and detatched, empty, and do I dare say it routine. You took care of me for a while now I am returning the favor, but I grow tiresome of your helplessness and I just feel more lonely. You want me to seduce you and make you feel special. Know that I do not put up with anyone the way I put up with you. Consider my patience a blessing, for no other women receieves it, yet I know how you are going to react to this, but you like to push my buttons and make me angry and then ask why it bothers me, so I guess I will quit acting as if my desires are only that, requests. You are not the only one who needs to feel sexy and wanted. I grow weary of having to satiate other women's wishes, what about me? I know this is somehow going to become you're insecurity, and how fucking rude of me to post it on the internet...boo hoo. I talk to no one about my personal life, and I guess its better to be enigmatic in my emotional release.

and if you get upset, as I imagine you will, what do you have to be upset about if we aren't really together? Currently you get all the benefits of being my girlfriend and I get none of said perks in return as I let you sleep in my bed, and recommend you for a job, and drive you to school and drive down your rent, what have you done lately except get sick and wax sexy to me. I guess even you don't buy it anymore. I guess my point is, what am I supposed to be excited to come home to?