ILove You
Article: Dakotah
I find myself rudely addicted to love. At every proverbial intersection, some unfortunate emotion contradicts the pure thoughts that invoke my action. I can literally hear the breaking of my heart with every somber step further into the darkness. What echoes in the night causes a reverberation, stinging my senses and reminding me that I am truly alone. People are nice. They listen. They respond. They demonstrate kindness without expectation and assume themselves to be altruistic. But they don’t hold my hand. They don’t call me at two in the morning to share a bad dream or tell me that the entire system is flawed. Whenever I feel a connection, it is the wireless connection of an outdated router, not the pure hardwired connection of actual high-speed Internet. I have loved and I have lost. There was a girl that spoke my language, but her pain was not my cross to bear. There were those that were attracted, like a magnet sticks to steel, but eventually they lost polarity. When the thrill is gone, the excitement dies and the ride is over. And without a thrill, without a rapid force of ecstasy, one can only cry. The girl holding the other can, attached with string to the can in my hand, speaks only in rhymes. Her voice is soft, but her words are harsh. Something tells me that she would be happier without me, and whether or not it is true, it hurts nonetheless. Our bond is a fool’s quest. Were I to seek that which completed me, I would find embrace. I would find an equal madness that mirrored the blunt insanity inherent to my life. Something that exuded weakness without admitting error, something that bled passion without sacrificing imagination. If the end of the night is just a myth, a sunrise without a name, then how can I stand to be left in
the light, forgotten and wandering? My visage reflects the relationships I witness. I see suffering at the hands of couples becoming each other, choosing to take the easy way out rather than end the charade. Perhaps love is a fool’s bargain and perhaps the fool is the only one laughing. He who laughs loudest laughs last. Once upon a time, there was a dragon held high in a tower. Her ambition ran dry as the knights of plenty masqueraded about, pretending to win her heart on a weekly basis. However, each successful bedding was only the result of a series of fortunate events. Each idea of joy blended into the next and got carried away, reminiscing about simpler times. Meanwhile, I am alone with the entire world in my corner. This boxing match should have ended in round 1 and yet, 24 years later, I’m still wearing the mouthguard. I’m still just a pawn acting out the deontological activities thrust upon me by Jehovah God. Surrounded by those that seem to care, loneliness is a bitter drink to swallow. With every ace in my sleeve, a royal flush is down the drain. What if love is a drug, like that Ke$ha song? Not just something to embrace but something to avoid, something to seek support groups for and something that brings the end of happiness? It is a high ride at first with a sudden stop, a biological imperative that reduces the cravings of flesh to the sadness of monotony. Brain chemicals can only describe so many levels of experience before melting away into the loss of ego. I do not know where I am. If life had a map, my current location would be uncharted. Lucky for me, there is no coordinate relevant to the phenomenon and each subsequent moment is as tumultuous as the previous.
The docks of Hades are booked for at least the next lifetime and without a stick to shake, my mind beckons for the undiscovered. So many happy people with a kid and a spouse and a dog and a lawn and a goddamn prayer. They have the American dream whether they know it or not and their absolute madness is the balancing act, the circus sideshow, of eternity. What is better than choosing to be correct? Without a flag, you cannot be a country. Without a cause, you cannot be a rebel. Without a corruption charge, you cannot be a leader. Without simple rejection, you cannot be accepted. Rock ‘n roll is the devil’s candy and sex is just a four letter word. I want to feel something. I crave the release of the novel. I seek random chance and employ those who will listen to ignore the teachings of those that came before. Today is not yesterday and tomorrow will never come again. If my lover cannot understand the chaos that is my psyche, the complete lack of precaution that I am so careful to maintain, they will not succeed. Please meditate. Find yourself. Know thyself. Walk in the woods and forget the path. There is no cure for the rampant discourse of bullshit currently contaminating planet Earth. But the girl out there for me speaks in riddles and only ever presents herself as a knower of truth. Be afraid to be alone, but don’t fall in love to escape the fear.