"And that painting describes our relationship completely. 2 forms becoming one mass. One disturbing and inscrutiable mass. The spoon penetrating the shoulder. Almost dipping into and pulling out like soft pudding. Malleable shoulder mass and pieces of meat draped what seems to be in a casual manner throughout. Death. The meat symbolizes it. It also alludes to the temporary nature of being. And that temporary nature in which relationships turn dark. A complete lack of awareness almost. It's called Autumnal Cannibalism. It's about the civil war in Spain in 1936, but it's not. It's about me.and.David. It's like the sins of our fathers are handed down to us, and we portray all of it hand in hand through the latex.
The lust is all consuming for the both of us. And we thought the feeling was oh so 'awe-inspiring.' There was nothing else in the world but 'us'. When one of us would come back down to Earth, the other would react very emotionally and violently against the withdrawal. Against the withdrawal itself. Threatening it was. It still feels as though an important ingredient is missing in my life, but that passion would have killed me. The love and hate will continue on, I'm sure. Although it's a miserable, discouraging, and disconcerting feeling, it's also comforting. In the aspect that someone, somewhere, w/ the same heartbeat as mine is living an almost parallel life. I mean...It couldn't be confined to *just* lust. It would be a damn lie. The little bits of humanity we have will always be intertwined w/ one another.

Sometimes I feel as if he and I were born in the wrong country. A country where extreme passion is pretty much considered crazy. A country that would rather take a pill then deal w/ the interesting and blessed lives we are given. Yeah...it's intense, so fucking what! I would rather feel too much than nothing at all. "