A Black Feather, A poison pen... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- always afraid of withering on the vine six years and two days removed from that encounter with the woman i sometimes refer to as the Red Witch and her cracked pleasures. She had followed Tiff and me around whenever we were at the old Atomic Cafe, but i've told that part of the story before, i do believe...The razormarks are long since gone, the memory of the pleasure is even receded into a faint, faded echo, like the traces of a song played from an old tape through a tinny-sounding speaker at low volume, and in the now seemingly mistaken decision i made in the light of that following morning, i've barely known so much as a touch. i saw that night as a crossroads of sorts, i was either going to keep doing what i had been doing since i was sixteen or, because i was in love with someone (whose trust i was trying to build after the shit that others had put her through) i was going to knock all that off in the name of proving both myself and my good intentions. little did i know that i would spend the rest of the intervening time feeling as gunshy as gunshy can get and living like a goddamned monk as a result of course it doesn't help that between being pathologically shy without the aid of chemicals and also being keenly aware that i have a face for radio, i pretty much avoid the club scene altogether anymore. and i don't see the logic in thinking anything with no more foundation that a moment of initial attraction could turn out any other way than badly or briefly (or both), and even though the end result has always been just as lonely as anything else (which i've always attributed to being my fault in some capacity or other) it has always just seemed to make more sense to me that if i suddenly find myself drawn to someone i already know either as a friend or an acquaintance to run with that, especially where there is enough common ground between us but like i said, as sensible as that might sound, for whatever reason the ending of that assumption has always been as lonely as anything else 1:27 a.m. - 2003-09-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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