it's wonderful what a smile can hide.

It's after the fact: only after being so close to someone can you fully realize the potential of your loneliness and solidarity. The slightly nostalgic feeling this time of year; photographs that used to mean something, friends that you used to know, cash spent on frivolous things...

I'm suddenly wealthy, very lonely, displaced, and most importantly -- twenty years old. My reckless youth has caused nothing but the signs of a suddenly very grown, very worn adult, raped of its own former glory and wholesomeness. I'm so tired.

And so it begins.



Pacific coast highway.

I hope that I've become an interesting example of impiety.

Packing completed. Only took.. er, three weeks.



The apartment is shockingly nice once thoroughly cleaned and bare.


My new one is pretty fly, though.

Everything is packed. Everything tangible that I used to know was accordingly placed in a box. Sitting and waiting. Memories, signed letters, books, photographs of friends that I used to know; they seem so casual now.


It's been so long. Maybe I'll miss the mundane things -- a private backyard, the fire pit, the epic black walls, the crooked kitchen. That room with a broken, breathing broken door. I've grown out of it, grown out of the chill, the gruesome affiliations and the scent of death.

I with I had more crystallized intelligence; more logical than creative..

Although, there is genuine loneliness that comes with straight, dark freedom.

    Fucked-up -- metaphorically, literally. The medication, the privacy, the distorted sense of self, the rising feelings of anger and shame and arrogance and self-loathing. Is that what's attracting these people? This new start, this noticeable difference within myself? I stopped being reserved the second it happened; I stopped caring the moment I realized that nothing mattered in the end, and that epiphany came the second he let go of me. Cursed, doomed, blessed, happy, sad -- it's strange to be all of them at once and be so fucking cavalier about it.

    You know I'd cut your throat before you could hurt me again.

   

    "What you may thought you were may never be the same. What you may think, feel, know.."

    The doctor said that in order to overcome it is to unravel the hidden memories. Stop repressing and focus on "relaxation techniques" while reliving the memory. Like jumping into ice cold water; uncomfortable at first, but manageable after a moment, she said. I covered my face in my hands -- it felt so Freudian, so cheap, such worthless advice. I guess she's right. Do I have to remember his scent, his hands pushing against mine, my screams, his threats, in order to come to some kind of peace? Solace through pain.


    I'll give it a try. Hit or miss, isn't it?

    This particular weave of fate is inconceivably hard to trace. Sometimes I try to connect the dots -- I used to be able to do that, like laying down in the grass and pointing out the opaque trail of shooting stars or connecting the imaginary lines of constellations. It used to be simple. Not too long ago I thought we only make the small choices, like when to floss our teeth, when to hit the snooze button on the alarm clock, or when to feed your pet. Everything changed though -- I try to breathe in meaning but all that fills my lungs is cold, arid, dusty air. Nihilism used to be so useless to me but now I question everything single thing. Meant-to-be transformed into fucked up carnal choice.

    Or is choice granted to us by that unknown cosmic force? Psychological and spiritual conditioning? Humans rape and kill because they.. simply want to? Reaping the effects of a past life? Lately, I've been thinking we're just animals. Scared, alone, hedonistic -- simply a byproduct of a scientific mistake and evolution. Questioning faith would be normal after everything (I hate using that term, but the world rape makes me physically ill); let's hope the faith I have kept for the past years is able to come back to me with certainty.
   

    "The nice people let me out one day and you told me how to act and what to say."

   

    What do you want from me? I was never a confidant socialite. Always selective when picking friends, liking to hold people to a spiritually moral standard. Being an individual with a "me vs them" mentality with little group oriented mentality might put you off, but in the end I'm not a tool.

     I never was.