So.
Years ago, I fell in love with a girl; awesomely, head-over-heels in love. She was unquestionably the most arrogant, privileged, heartless bitch I've ever met, but she could also be the most flirtatious, intelligent, and mischeivous girl in the world.
She had skin like velvet and eyes like almonds. She was one of the most brutally sharklike girls I've ever known. I fell harder, and more fiercely than I have before or since.
And now, years later, sometimes something happens; a scent on the wind, a certain type of weather, a bad nineties prog-rock song plays on the radio, and I think of her. In that one brief breath of memory, my heart pauses, and I see a decade worth of distance roll out in front of me; I feel that kick-in-the-gut sensation you feel when you get bad news, that feeling you have at the precise moment your elevator begins to descend.
And I feel an impossible desire.
Strangely, the insatiability of that desire makes me feel alive.
It's not that I'm still in love with that girl; it was a different time, years ago; and both of us were very different children of very different gods.
It's not that I pine for her memory; I don't look that far back into my past for desire.
Besides, she was a bitch.
It's not her that I miss, it's the honesty of the times. I trusted that girl absolutely, and in the end she proved herself to be deserving of it. From start to finish, she was a predator, and she never hid that behind masks; She came, she saw, she took hearts and left bodies in her wake, and she did it with a smile.
What I miss is the level of confidence she had, that so many of us had back then. What I miss is that level of professionalism. When I see the bumbling level of incompetence most players bring to the game now, it makes me want to just stay home and knit.
Maybe age equals wisdom; maybe people are just idiots all of a sudden.
These naff monkeys think their actions are inscrutable, that their behavior is oblique. These children act as if they didn't wear their issues on their sleeves.
What I miss right now in the world is the honesty and integrity of those who would walk through it as monsters, without embarassment, denial, or shame, and who would accept the consequences with a smile.
Fuck it, a grin.
And what I miss most of myself is the passing of a boy who was able to wholeheartedly burn with passion for a lover. I remember being able to completely and overwhelmingly desire someone, to the point where I could literally drink in their presence as if the air itself had become wine around them. It seems like those that could deserve that are few and far between, and those that don't find that threatening are even fewer.
Love?
Love is not desperation or insecurity.
Love is not the cessation of lonliness.
Love is a hunger you've felt your whole life, but are never aware of until you meet the one you've hungered for. Love is a feast embodied in the heart and flesh and soul of your equal.
Love is the first breath of air when you've never even known you were drowning.
Shadi.
Years ago, I fell in love with a girl; awesomely, head-over-heels in love. She was unquestionably the most arrogant, privileged, heartless bitch I've ever met, but she could also be the most flirtatious, intelligent, and mischeivous girl in the world.
She had skin like velvet and eyes like almonds. She was one of the most brutally sharklike girls I've ever known. I fell harder, and more fiercely than I have before or since.
And now, years later, sometimes something happens; a scent on the wind, a certain type of weather, a bad nineties prog-rock song plays on the radio, and I think of her. In that one brief breath of memory, my heart pauses, and I see a decade worth of distance roll out in front of me; I feel that kick-in-the-gut sensation you feel when you get bad news, that feeling you have at the precise moment your elevator begins to descend.
And I feel an impossible desire.
Strangely, the insatiability of that desire makes me feel alive.
It's not that I'm still in love with that girl; it was a different time, years ago; and both of us were very different children of very different gods.
It's not that I pine for her memory; I don't look that far back into my past for desire.
Besides, she was a bitch.
It's not her that I miss, it's the honesty of the times. I trusted that girl absolutely, and in the end she proved herself to be deserving of it. From start to finish, she was a predator, and she never hid that behind masks; She came, she saw, she took hearts and left bodies in her wake, and she did it with a smile.
What I miss is the level of confidence she had, that so many of us had back then. What I miss is that level of professionalism. When I see the bumbling level of incompetence most players bring to the game now, it makes me want to just stay home and knit.
Maybe age equals wisdom; maybe people are just idiots all of a sudden.
These naff monkeys think their actions are inscrutable, that their behavior is oblique. These children act as if they didn't wear their issues on their sleeves.
What I miss right now in the world is the honesty and integrity of those who would walk through it as monsters, without embarassment, denial, or shame, and who would accept the consequences with a smile.
Fuck it, a grin.
And what I miss most of myself is the passing of a boy who was able to wholeheartedly burn with passion for a lover. I remember being able to completely and overwhelmingly desire someone, to the point where I could literally drink in their presence as if the air itself had become wine around them. It seems like those that could deserve that are few and far between, and those that don't find that threatening are even fewer.
Love?
Love is not desperation or insecurity.
Love is not the cessation of lonliness.
Love is a hunger you've felt your whole life, but are never aware of until you meet the one you've hungered for. Love is a feast embodied in the heart and flesh and soul of your equal.
Love is the first breath of air when you've never even known you were drowning.
Shadi.
"why i'm not a poet" - by me.