I think it’s about time to open up a can of voodoosmack. About time the spider crawled over and sucked dry some flies. Blood is healthy. Blood is good for you. So drink up, darling, before you go to bed.
Why are you uncomfortable with polygamy? Why do you need to be the only? Why do you need to be special and unique throughout the world? What is the root of your nagging discontent? What moon is it that instigates inexorable tides of melancholy against your shores, who sows seeds of doubt in endless rows across the fields of your mind? Why is it that song always reminds you of her? That some loves lodge themselves permanently in your illusions while others melt like wax on the hearth, break like grain at the stone, gone, gone, beyond painful reach, outside possibility, never to enjoy again, never ever to comfort, never to bring light to your face, smiles to your lips, never again to paint your gray with color.
Who is it that you admire? Who is just beyond your reach? And if you determine the two most diverse enjoyments which bring you utmost sanity, how far is the distance between them, what is the spectrum they encompass? I hope you’re not above lucidity, fury, passion, terror, and I hope you have the strength to laugh at the places where your own fabric comes undone. I hope you’re not paralyzed by the fear of being misinterpreted. I hope you don’t think about everything before you say it. I hope you’re not always concientious, not always careful, not always self-aware.
I hope you’ve been fucked just the way you like it.
I hope that you’re still reading. I hope that you like me. Why?
Why do you make enemies? Why does anyone you know ever like you less as time goes on? How many really close friends can you have? Why are you scared of people you don’t know? Why are you jealous? Have you ever comitted a crime? Have you ever thought you were going to die and then lived through it? Why are you impatient? Why are you bored? Why are you lonely? What is the nature of others? Why are you more interested in certain others than you are in yourself? What makes a house a home? What makes a house a house? Why do some people just not get it?
Who is better : Buddhists or capitalists?
Is there a God? Is there a reason why everything got started? What is the nature of consequence? Is there a reason to do certain things rather than others? What if you had done things differently? How would it have turned out? Can you ever really go back to Cincinatti?
doggy style and the Kama Sutra
Why do I want you to love me and me only? Why do I want the same from you? Why do people have best friends? Why do people get married? Why do people get jealous? Why do people want to be famous? And is there anyone in the world who wants none of this?
I have at times in my life called a person my best friend. Called a person my lover. Called a person my girlfriend. Had favorite people of various types. I have at times been another’s favorite person in some category. Who is the best listener you know? Who’s your favorite composer? With whom do you most enjoy sex? And don’t I want to be at the apex of such categories in others’ minds? Want to be the fastest? The most talented? Cassanova? Mozart? Why do I order myself so, among others, and order others among themselves? Which one of them is prettier? Does he have a bigger dick than me? Why didn’t I get into Mensa? She did.
Why do I ask such questions? And why are their answers important to me? Why did I take the Mensa test? Why don’t I like to go dancing? What is really going on in both of those situations? Who am I without these arenas? Am I a Christian or an aetheist? Am I white or black? Am I a programmer or an athelete? Am I a boy or a girl? Am I tall or short? Am I smart or dumb? Am I sexy or boring? Am I rich or poor? Can I dance? What am I in relation to you, the others of the world?
Is one a big number?
When I meet someone who can dance, it is then I discover either that I can dance or that I can’t. When I meet someone who is dumb, it is then I know I am smart. When I meet someone who is black it is then I know I am white. Do you notice the smell of air except when it stinks? Do you notice the pressure on your skin except when you’re swimming? Do you notice the sweetness of milk until it is gone? More precisely, how do you know what milk tastes like until you’ve tried juice? What is milk if that’s the only thing in your refrigerator? It might make the difference between hungry and full for a while, but without a broader menu milk would be like hometown water; until you drink it somewhere else you think water has no taste. If what you know now as deep purple was the only color you ever saw, you wouldn’t know what color was even though you were surrounded by it. How can you know what a Big Mac tastes like if that’s all you’ve ever eaten? How can you know that you’re having good sex if you’ve only had it one way? If you’ve only had it with one person? Only done it doggy style?
If I want to know how smart I am, how good a lover I am, then I should take the Mensa test and have sex with as many people as possible. I should go dancing and try to be an athelete and a musician and an actor. And when the day is done I will know who I am, that I am a not a Mensa genius, but I am a good lover and a bad dancer and not at all an athelete or a mucisian or an actor.
Why do I want you to love me and me only? Because I want to be something that I can never be : I want to be all things to all people, I want to be Mozart and Cassanova to everyone. If I did not want this then I would have no reason to be unhappy with who I am. I would recognize that I am Mozart to noone and Cassanova only sometimes to someone. If I wanted to be no different than who I am then I would not be jealous of anyone, I would not be jealous of anyone’s position in relation to others. I would not expect to be loved exclusively by anyone; I would know that I am finite, unable to be everything at once, unable to fill every perscription that can be called in.
Can I have a best friend? Can I love someone exclusively? Can I be someone else’s only and their all? There are undeniably times when such relationships exist, but they cannot remain thus forever if the people involved in them continue to change. We can all be god in some ways sometimes, but there is only so much audience for god to go around. While you play that role, be preparing for your next. I’ve seen some shows, and the credits roll on every one.