Sunny side up, or Paranoia-over-easy?

There is no escape from the gripping clutches of insecurity. It shadows over you like an eclipse blocking out the light of the sun, wiping away your smiles and laughter within moments. Huge and ominous flying machines cover the sky in your line of sight, foreshadowing the fields of green and turning them into barren wastelands. It only takes one word, one misplaced thought, one drop of ink in your cup of gold and it spreads with veiny, twisted urgency blackening the view out of your rose coloured glasses. The plains were covered in ashen downpour, darkening mist looming over the horizon, there was no sun shining where you stood anymore. It was getting hard to breathe.

Its grip on your chest tightens with every breath you let out, you suffocate in your own irrational thoughts, your brain swirling in a vortex of unrealistic conclusions. You sit in a whirlpool of despair, going over the same fears in your mind a million times, and you begin to question your reality, your relationships, your friendships. You find yourself waist deep in a river of grey matter slime, it sticking to your arms and legs as you struggle to wade through it to the other side.

Your thoughts have become twisted and thorny, tangling themselves up in your brain resisting your every urge to rationalize them. Devious thoughts that were ready to harm your relationships with the people you cared about the most. Lashing thoughts like whiplashes made of double sided blades that was ready to slice the people you loved to pieces. Malicious thoughts that wanted to mutilate your own heart and watch you break, and weep mercilessly into the abyss. Paranoid delusions that created scenarios of exchanges between a best friend and Him; you saw they way he looked at her, she was far more beautiful, and far less in need of your affections. Would they like each other more than they loved you? Why was he ignoring you; why were you left hanging with those two little blue checks for proof of his evasiveness? Had he got tired of your attention, or did he just need some space? Were your friends lying to you, were they conspiring against you, with their heads together, speaking in low voices? Covering up a web of deceit spun in a invisible thread that you felt caught in? The more you struggled to get out of it the more you got entangled in its wires. You irrevocably damaged mind was rearing you up for slaughter, sending you like a bull to its death. Almost like it relished the agony it caused you when it fed you these nightmares.

It was your own mind, fabricating this destructive web, getting your own self trapped in a maze with no way out, each turn leading to a dead end, ending with a painful death each worse than the last. You run blindly feeling your way through this maze, unaware that it is your own mind that is playing the role of the cruel puppet master.

You toss and turn, sending out consistently more erratic feelings and thoughts like rattling pulses out into the universe. You urge with all the hope in your heart for some reassurance, from him, from yourself. You cannot let yourself be submerged in this sticky depraved misery, for that is when you lose your sanity. Knowing in your heart that you loved and trusted all these people, and that they would never deliberately hurt you, gives you a flutter of hope for yourself.

It was the fear of loving someone, and the insecurity of dealing with betrayal in past incidences recurring that made you so irreparably afraid. But could you trust your own instincts, could you trust yourself to even know whether the attachment you felt to deeply for this person was even worth all the struggle to cross the river of muck to the shores of reality on the other side? You look down and you realize that it was the attachment itself that was what you were stuck in, clinging to your body and creeping in to every crevice, holding on to your skin. But you did not need to struggle against it, because you could ease yourself into it and it would embrace you, and you might find yourself in quiet appreciation of being immersed in it…

 

 

 

Boyfriends with Girlfriends.

Why do you fall in love with every new man you find interesting? And why do you only find interesting the men who do not, or could not, give you anything in return?

Ones who made excuses when you asked them to spend time with you, between the ‘yeah, sure lets hang soon’s and ‘oh sorry, i’m busy’s, you never knew if any of these responses were real or just conversation fillers that bought you extra time, to delay the inevitable conclusion to our relationships.

You always started with a spark with these men, an initial attraction, your eyes locked for a split second that felt like forever and a fire stirred inside your stomach as you gazed in embrace. The spark lasted for a few weeks, maybe a month at most, while you broke down the barriers through casual exchange in texts because you did not believe in sexual intimacy without a connection. The text talking was what you were most comfortable with, it allowed for distance, without letting down any of your barriers. You could control what you said, gave you space to plan your sentences. But eventually the cracks start to appear, after a few real-life meetings you start to get attached, form a fictional relationship with this person, formulating made up scenarios and ideals of what could be possible. You let on too much, you go from being interesting and ‘fun’ to talk to, to being slightly needy and too comfortable.

This is the moment these men raise their ears to the sounds of my text beeping, alert in the forest like a wary deer, they stand still in the shadows hoping they won’t be seen by my searching eyes. They moment I get too close they make a run for it, escape. Sometimes gradually, slowly cutting down their responses to one word answers, until eventually you get me to admit that it’s not going to happen anymore.

And this is when I want them the most, my aching heart has been set alight with smouldering embers, quietly turning the remains of my heart to a blackened char. The less you want me, the more I want you. The less attention you pay me, the more I need to be seen. To be heard, and my grip grows slightly tighter with every passing day because I do not want to lose the possibility of all the things I had imagined for us, what we could have done, could have said, could have seen and felt if he disappeared.

You had a connection, yes, but it was fleeting, never meant to last. Why? It may not have been the right time, or place in the cosmos. These men always had other distractions, they were not looking directly at you, their attention was elsewhere with someone else. You were just temporary, something interesting to talk to for a moment and pretty to look at that made them feel good about themselves, while they wiled their time away on their others. It was unfair. And yet it happened every single time, over and over again like an old clock that would not stop ticking in place, stuck in its minute little loop.

They were all in love with someone else. And here I was once again stuck inside the broken clock where time stood still.

The Blue Fairy is not coming.

What is the rational amount of time and energy a person should spend in the pursuit of someone who may or may not be interested in return?

Wherever you go, you carry around a little effigy in your pocket, it sometimes sits on your shoulder, sometimes peeks out the front of your jacket pocket, sits beside you while you sip your coffee and pour hollandaise on your eggs. It sits on your table, and on those mornings where your heart has sunk to your stomach, where you are left alone with the expanding feeling of quiet loneliness, you stare at it sitting there and you face the reality that this figurine is not and never will be real. It is but a clump of cloth and wool and drumsticks in the shape of ‘somebody’, to which you have attached all the little trinkets and charms you have collected along the way; memories and moments over time, sewn, glued and pinned in the hope your little soft doll, would be visited by the Blue Fairy one moonlit night and turn it into a real person.

You know that fairy tales don’t come true, not in this reality, and yet you continue to nurse and keep this puppet close to your heart because it has become your lifeline; your float that keeps you from drowning in the thunderous ocean that is heartache. Yet you hold on, you nurture the idea of the ‘somebody’ transitioning from beyond the veil, where you can’t touch them, flirting in and out of sight to finally stepping through the curtain into your reality.

However, no matter how hard the candle of hope burns you cannot turn a blind eye to the true fact that your doll is nothing more than a statue. It had no feelings to return, no glint in its eye that expressed emotions, no words to respond with to your proclamations of grand future plans. It stared on back at you, ever present, yet ungiving.

Beep. Beep. The texts were all that you received from beyond the veil, casual friendly messages in response to your prying inquisitions. You wondered whether you should break the line, but you didn’t want to drown either. Friendship was better than having no ship to be tethered to, in this ocean you feared so intensely, you thought. He was real, yet he lived in another reality, which despite your attempts to reach his dimension, was not possible. Yet, you hoped, and continued with each passing day to keep the candle burning so he may find his way through with the Blue Fairy’s help, from wherever his world was to yours. So you may one day wake up not next to a doll but to the ‘somebody’ with his arms around you and his long hair all tangled up in your own, to say a real good morning in return.

But, how much longer should you continue to keep your secret made up figure of cotton and wool and one-dimensional emotions, before something or nothing ever happens?

 

A Tale of two Brothers.

How ethical is it to be, in whichever level form that romance can exist, whether it be a physical attraction, an emotional connection, a lustful desire, playful banter, hopeful desperation, soulful comfort, a friendly affection or a deep love; how ethical is it to be, in any form of love with two brothers at the same time?

They each represented different things, to you.

One, who paralyzed you from within just by being present in the same room. One, who you craved to be closer to, to stare into his eyes and feel the world go silent around you, floating in a vacuum of space-time, just the two of you alone in the entire world. One, who haunted your dreams and the edges of your sanity, flirting with your mind in imagined conversations, sending you spiraling into the borders of hysteria over manic excitement of his being. Yet never being able to find the courage to speak to him in the moments he was around you, save some stolen words from an alternate reality. One, who you wanted to feel against your skin, whose past and present you desperately wanted intertwined with your own, and yet so unattainable that it made your insides ache to think of him. One, who you feared could break you into a million pieces if he ever knew how intensely you wanted his arms around you. One, who could probably not ever be with you because he was already with someone else.

Two, who was a distant friend of years, though never too close until suddenly, you find yourself having late night conversations, flirting in the realness of now and enjoying the attention. A warm, strong and sensitive man, slowly yet surely playing on your need for comfort and security. Two, who promised to cook you dinner, and rub your shoulders when you became a little too tense. Two, who expressed his desire to get closer, for intimacy. Two, who you trusted, and considered who wanted you for more than just sex, who you thought could be more than just a sexual fling, who you felt might have been more than just a friend, two, with whom you subconsciously thought you could spend nights in bed with, spend days cooking with, and weeks and months falling with. Two, who might possibly have been something or everything, turned out to be nothing in the circumstances that unfolded, on a spontaneous night two awkward lovers went separate ways.

And now, you, stuck between the pain of forbidden desire and the pang of regretful longing, stood still thinking about what could be and what could have been. In a swirling vortex of confusion and strange surrealism, you stand dissociated from them both, nursing a quiet flame under each of their names, a quiet shame that should always be kept secret; for though neither flame will ever catch fire and set ablaze the entirety of your existence, though in their own ways each flame was of special significance, it is clear that it’s not ethical to be in love with two brothers at the same time…

Uploading Attachments

NETWORK CONNECTION ERROR.

The server is not responding. Uploads have failed to attach. System failure, malfunction alert, operating system crashing…

REBOOT.

. . .

Restarting your machine may take longer than expected, after all yours is a complex sentient machine. You have to process the data loss and re-evaluate the update.

You may not have realized at the time you began your connection that it was something you wanted to be a lasting feeling. You thought then, that it was just a mutual ‘coalition’ with an air of breezy romance coupled with flirtatious passing comments. Nonetheless, aura of new relationships never fails to excite you; though you may deep in your heart know that you do not have the patience to nurse this long and grueling process, so it may not even pass the initial stage of stolen glances, flurried touches, and butterflies tingling in your stomach, you still find yourself utterly disappointed when you realize the attachment you had been trying to upload has failed.

You find yourself questioning whether you acted too fast, if you made your move too soon? You obsess in spiraling roundabouts of confusion whether it was your inability to wait, to delay the inevitable climactic encounter that would ultimately impact, either with smiles or with sadness, the course of the continuation of your relationship. You look behind you at the road taken, and you are certain that it was not just your own conviction, but rather a reciprocated eagerness to partake in the kairos. So how could it be your fault that the server was not responding. Clearly there had been some kind of unforeseen malfunction, an underlying unmentioned dormant virus, laying beneath the surface waiting for the opportune moment to make itself shown, crashing the server completely.

The virus now had complete hold of the server, there was no way through its firewalls so high that you could not find a way to reach in and reconnect. No matter how you tried, the virus just kept sending in advanced defense mechanisms, the walls got higher, thicker and more and more distant until all connection to the server flatlined.

Your attachments, now fell crashing down. The crash caused more damage to the operating system than expected. You stand there at the foot of its pile of broken feelings, watching the integrity of the system failing around you, pieces falling out of the very floor you stand on, the sky slowly blacking out pixel by pixel, rejection and regret filling in those empty black squares one after another until you are wholly consumed by its sticky dark glue of self-depreciation.

You also understand that though you may have entered into this chaotic simulation with mild intention, a subconscious urge for a fulfilling human connection, had found some eager feeling ready to formulate themselves into a solid program, and you may have developed a sense of blind hope in a glimpse of a possible future. Yet now, while you struggle in the solitary confinement of your own mind, you stare at your demons in the eye facing the dark shadow of what might have been. They ask you why you are just SO unlucky in love? What is it about you that makes you crave a deep affection so profoundly and yet despise the process of its creation so intensely? You wonder whether to blame only yourself in the mistakes of your past relationships, or were your choices mere reflections of an effect after a cause out of the world around you.

Your next step is to upgrade your system, with a stronger antivirus protection, and solid core stability. This update may take months or maybe years to fully complete. Yet you must decide whether updating to an abstinence program would benefit the system’s capacity for forming real personal connections in the future? and would it be worth it in the end?

Kismet?

We walk, we wander through the streets of a busy market intersection, hundreds of people around us, each oblivious to each other. We live two completely separate lives, for now… But through the crowd, the throng of people pushing and shoving, shouting their way to the fishmongers and shoe-salesmen, we bump into each other. In this chaotic jumble of faces and voices, we stop and feel something. It could be something as simple as a touch, with our eyes, for even that touch is felt right deep within our souls, if you let it…

The noise in the streets is drowning, the colours and shapes fleeting and inconsistent, blurry figures roam around us in misshapen forms as they roam around leaving trails of their purpose behind. Some weave their paths towards certain intention, and the others leave behind hints of forgotten commitment. We stand in there, somewhere between the two, somehow, we might possibly stray paths and kismet.

You are but an ideal to the imaginary void i need to fill. A solid reality to the fantasy that I have created within my mind, the perfect stranger to meet the mystery that is me. You may be the one person yet unknowing, of any past, previous, prior history of mine. A refreshing breath of fresh air to inhale. A new surface to explore, to discover how one touch might spark tingles down my spine, one kiss could make my knees weak, or even just a glance in my direction might make my heart race a thousand times faster. It could be kismet that our eyes meet across the street and I soak up your soul like dry earth on a rainy day.

I don’t know who you are, yet. But you seem familiar to me somehow, the thought of who we may be together brings a smile to my face and a warmth to my cheeks. I see you across the street and my impulse, my urge is to run to your arms, with the faintest hope that you will catch me. I seek your gaze, looking over the river of people cascading between us, standing on my tiptoes making every effort to not drown. I swim across, stroke after stroke, against the current reaching ever so slowly.

I don’t know who you are, yet. You may be someone looking elsewhere, trying to catch someone else’s eye in the crowd. You may be holding the hand of another woman, happily. You may be moving in with her, you may be marrying her. And all the fantastical possibilities of who we could be or could have been are getting washed away in this river of people, leaving me stranded on a lonely rock in its middle. I stand there, still awaiting a moment when the throb of the flow lets up, to cross that river and face you. You may still be there on the other side, and we finally say hello. Or you could be another face from the crowd of wandering eyes awaiting to catch a glancing pair to meet.

I don’t know who you are yet, but I am waiting to know you…

 

Gooey; Replay

It hits you like a glue bomb, when you realize you have feelings for your best friend, a sticky mess, that all over you; it’s in your hair, between your fingers, it’s glued your heart to your throat and you walk around with the nauseating pulse beating loudly in your ears, you cannot swallow, you want to speak, but the words are stuck in it’s gooey hot mess. The thoughts fluttering in your mind, the restless nights wondering how to get your words out, or even if you should speak at all. You go about your day, wearing a mask to hide the burning ache you feel inside, the truth struggling to break out of your chest, its fiery need to transition from thought to reality takes all your heart’s strength to hold in place. Fear of rejection and anxiety of reaction intertwine like vines, dancing its way up your spine.

And after finding the courage to finally tell him that you care, after months of deliberating whether it was the right thing to do, wondering what it would do to your relationship – friendship. And he says “I don’t feel the same way”… And though you knew in your heart of hearts that this was going to be his answer, there is no more room for wishful thinking. You stand there facing nothing but the truth, that there will be no room for anything more than what exists now. So you face this reality, though now feeling raw, exposed, vulnerable; you are more susceptible and sensitive to old wounds and lost-loves.

You sit and wonder, though ‘why?’ or rather, ‘why not?’

Your feelings for him were not those of passion and desire, they were deeper rooted, not a mere passing crush, it was a wholesome care that engulfed his being like a bubble, it was a friendship, it was a love, it was a seed grown through a year of small understandings, and misunderstandings. A flash into the future you imagine a person who loves doing the same things you do, a person you can sit comfortably in silence with, a person who you does not make you feel judged for even your most embarrassing, and weak moments, a person who makes you feel unafraid of revealing even the dirtier and darker sides of yourself, a person in whose company you feel at ease, a sense of relief, to not need to be your best self, to not worry about your insecurities, or be honest and open about them with. You could imagine him as your person, because you were all of this together… You wonder, with all this between you, whether he would change his mind, someday.

How would you feel if you could replay out every other possibility that your life could have taken, all the missed opportunities, the moments, the mishaps, the kiss that could have been instead of the tears that were shed. Would your ideal reality exist in those hundreds of probable outcomes? Would you have become lovers rather than friends, if you had not gotten so drunk that one time, or phrased your words a little differently, if you had not taken that trip, if you had let your guard down from the beginning, if you weren’t in love with other people in between, would that initial kiss have led you down a different path, one that would have ended in cuddled comfort on the couch watching the netflix series on the possibilities of your life’s choices, rather than with two separate aching hearts though together yet far apart.