Wednesday, April 09, 2008

O Brave New World: Confessions of a Madman

Let me preface this by saying my return is not to indulge a prior..poetic..reputation that used to appear on this black background a long time ago, but because of the very principles of this site: to say that which must be said. I will lapse into eloquence and blunt speech as my exhausted mind wills, and I may not entirely make sense. But I am now paying the price for quite literally keeping my thoughts and emotions exclusively to myself (and perhaps one not-so-subtle Dr. in our midst). This is not some experimental poetry, or a series of witty abstract narratives, or a series of lyrical lines (some mine, some not) that have looped their ways around my head. This is perhaps the most dangerous essay I will have ever written; because this is the most honest essay I will have ever written. I will be cryptic and frantic and incoherent and inconsolable and maybe I will gain something from it, or maybe you will gain something from it. I'm not sure how long this rant/stream-of-consciousness/mental rollercoaster clusterfuck will go on. I am not drunk. I am not under the influence of some experimental drug. I am merely insane with so much to say....


Jesus could only take this shit for 32 years.

I am spilling. No, no no no that's not strong enough, thats not violent enough, I'm not spilling I'm breaking/cracklingSTATIC there is somethingSOMETHING arching down my limbs like some adrenaline-lightning. something that sparks that burns that looks like veins against an X-ray but couldnt possibly be veins. veins are too conventional, too Flesh & Blood human. and god(God?)DAMN it would be too easy to be Flesh & Blood human. BUt no no no no no no n oashasoghasjhgasgd we had to be the STATIC kind the kind that splinters and ConTOrTs itself into mental gymnastics reserved for the electrocuted and most cruelly tortured. I was fixed
I was fixed I was FIXED/Cured/Baptised in the waters of the well

Rewired.

I was rewired. I must remain rewired. Seneca----->> "A Liar MUST be good at remembering". He as wise as he was old as he is dead. I am a liar. There are rules. How many people am I???? Every class I am anew like some twisted phoenix. I am music I am military I am poet I am shy I am the extroverted hurricane I am sweet I am a 10lbs of douche in a 2lbs bag I am Government I am INDIE I am quietly conceited I am the Director and the Customer and the Customer is always Right. The Process: I shake your hand I get your name I map your personality I use you. But I'm good. Oh I'm very good. But I would change for you (<--but that's a lie! I am efficient I am resolute I am safe.---)--> I am too safe I am undone.

"Oh stop being so safe." That's the bitch about text messages right? The tone. The tone is gone. How did you say it? Was it teasing, with a grin on your face? Was it apathetic, with frustration down your neck? Was it said in a commanding whisper- like some relentless last words? I will never know. Was it then or the night before I was too safe? The night where some God or Fate or FairyFuckFest made the sky glow. And not that retarded Chernobyll/Disney fake alien glow. It was as if someone spilled all the celestial glitter from their galactic Arts & Crafts table...all over the horizon. It was cold that night. So we (strangers) cuddled (what a stupid word....I hate that word it completely de-values a beautiful situation into something childish) We shared warmth and words because it was cold and quiet. But of course it was cold, its always fucking cold when youre with the one you love (a crucified word if one was ever written). Because what? The Sun has 7 other mistresses. Earth is just another bitch in the flock. I wasnt mad, I'd be bitter too, and at least now that I'm lonely it's a nice 63F outside. The Sun cheats. I am too safe. The Sun cheats.

When I was 5 years old I had just seen The Little Mermaid for the first time, and even though I was by no means a mermaid princess, I, a child who had his assumptions that Disney knew the proper channels when it came to love, went into Mrs. Cardwell’s yard and started to play “She loves me/ She loves me not” with her new flowers. shelovesmeshelovesmenotshelovesmeshelovesmenotshelovesmeshelovesmenotSheLovesMe- and then I came to the last petal. What do you do when you come to the last petal? You cheat. We all cheat. And doesn’t that say something to the character of man? To the character of love? We were wired to want and to be found wanting of love.

You shook in your sleep. I saw it. The painting of the irises on the wall in all their pink and purple viscera saw it. The ceiling fan that spun like Nautilus skin saw it. We all saw it. Ive done it myself even, that sickening twitch of the spine, but no one has said I have done it sleeping. But I saw it move you. Our legs were overlapped (perfectly in place) like Lincoln Logs, and for that terrifying second it looked like you let the devil win. Your spine straightened and curled twisted, forcing your hand from mine. Then you rolled over and said with a slyness reserved for the sleepridden “sometimes I move in my sleep”. You didn’t move, you shook and the whole room saw it. I held you again and you went back to whatever dreamscape-hell you came from. It felt like every 30 minutes or so you would just shake, like your body couldn’t hold you anymore / talked to God/ met the dead/ remembered how far humanity has come and how far it has to go. And now I have them, those demons and they criss and cross and pirouette up my right arm to the numb part of my face and they show me the writing ont hewall I shouldveseenthewritingonthewalland for the past12orTHIRteenMOnthsYouhaventONCElookedatme*(withLoudNEss)inyourEyes.andIndarknessALightShinesAndthatLightIsGodahsfdkhfskhdkghdkbv57h32wbs6ejd


Jesus could only take this shit for 32 years. How am I going to deal with 75.15

MAYALLTHELIGHTENINGINYOURGRINBEGINTOSTEERYOUHOMEAGAIN/ASLIFE:WHATONCEEMBOLDENEDBURDEN,LULLABIESYOUSLOW,BUTCERTAIN.

That is where I am from.
This is where I am:

I Cant spell Dark it is unreachableandIamlostandlostandlostbecauseitis2008andWeAreNotWhoWeWere. Because all this is some ploy for reasoning some cry to some species that only exists within the confines of my perception but you CHAnged it you changed the perception! O Brave New World With Such People In It- Lets Start At Once! I wake them up and they say You Have Quite a Story/The World is Bigger Now/ it seems like it must be so casual for you like you walk around causing people to just think/ NO. A and B and C have various infatuations with me because of Her and how she’s made me realize the undying beauty of every complete stranger I pass on the highway and how you can fall in one with anyone you devote yourself to exploring. I am a Liar and Ill I want is for THEM to be Her and Me to be ME when I was on that Beach on Saint Patty’s day 2007 and I want you to have Blue Eyes that make me Honest and The ONE person I was and not the Million people that I am from one breath unto the next. For I am surely broken. I am in love with a woman I barely know. In a place too far from home. Who is with a man who helps her fall asleep at night, who has to speculate as to why she shakes.

THereAre6POINT6BILLIONpeopleOnthisbouncingBallofSweatandTearsandBloodandBaneandDryDrunkEmporersThereare300MILLIONBreathingBlessingsintheUnitedSTatesofAMericaButISWEARbythoseIrisesonthewallsAndTheCHEATINGsunandtheLAstPETalAndEverySingleGirlWhoIDontLEtKissMEBecauseTheyMeanAFractionofYourWalking/LivingPoetry- that I am undone. I have rationalized that you are merely another second-class beauty in this world of Bitches and Bastards. But I was wrong. I was always wrong.

You burn so bright, for so many, and are genuinely beautiful. I have to be careful.

You called me last week, in the middle of your Club Softball practice, 600 miles away, and said you couldn’t contain your excitement- you and your team had made the finals-like you promised me you would- and that you would be in NC, and I had to come to visit- like I promised you I would.

It has been one year since that beach. I will come up to meet you. I will tell you “I’m sorry, you don’t know how lovely you are”.

11 comments:

Dr. A said...

This life we live is such a tragedy, a comedy, a romance, a drama. I'm not going to be able to top what Maverick has just said, and won't try, but at least I feel that I should quote a favorite book and say, " 'And now?' 'Now I too have been crucified." I don't know that we've all felt this exact same way, but I know that for myself, someone has driven me crazy before. And I don't know how to get sane again either.

Your not so subtle doctor,

Anonymous said...

tl;dr

Anonymous said...

I feel like I just read an excerpt from Faulkner.

Anonymous said...

yeah if faulkner were a teenager with an inflated ego

Anonymous said...

As I got to the last line 'the scientist' began playing on itunes.

It only served to intensify the emotion I felt after reading this.

Anonymous said...

Hey, Maverick.
You've always sort of had a fan following on Tangst (whether you knew it or not), stemming from your poetry.
I just want to let you know that I'm an even bigger (fan? no. admirer? no. --appreciator, yes.) appreciator of you now than ever before.
That was beautiful.

Anon3 said...

I didn't say I liked Faulker.

Dr. A said...

I'm totally feeling whatever anonymous mentioned a teenager with an inflated ego. (Jk lol!!!! Loooove you mavvykins)

knight_racer979 said...

Wow.

Congrats Maverick, you have managed to capture in print that which is uncapturable. I tip my hat to you.

Beautiful, powerful and emotional.

Wow.

Anonymous said...

tl;dr seconded

Anonymous said...

Thank you for your thoughts, friends.