I just had a three hour conversation with Katja. I now have no idea who I am, what I want or how to live my life. I think these are all good things, though. Katja is one of a handful of people who I think really gets me. She challenges me and makes me think about who I am. I don’t have many friends like that and none of them are people who I see or speak to on a regular basis. In fact, they’re all people I can go months without speaking to but when I do talk to them we’re always right there. Off the top of my head the only other examples I can think of are Archer, Leah and Sarah. Leah and Sarah are in San Francisco, Archer is in Arizona, and Katja… well she lives around the corner from me, but the distance between us for the past year was other than geographic.
I think most of my friends are just sort of amused by me. For reasons of respect, admiration or indifference, they don’t question who I am or what I do. Katja does and when she does, I get tongue tied. I get halfway through some bullshit answer and it occurs to me that I have no answer: I hadn’t even thought about it before.
I think I’ve grown increasingly shallow and self destructive since me and Caryn broke up. I don’t think I realized how much until right now.
God, Katja is so dope. I want her, but, fuck! We haven’t even done anything yet and she’s already reaching into the center of my chest and pulling shit out and going “what’s this?” And I’m like, “I don’t know.” And how do you move from that to the physical? Part of me wants to back off from the notion of anything sexual and just be friends, so that she doesn’t question my motives. Part of me wants to crack open my rib cage and invite her in ‘cause I’m interested in what she might find.
I don’t let people get that close to me.
When, and if they do, I kick them out, and double lock the doors.
Yeah, it’s risky, but I think I’ve been too guarded for too long.
Deliberation
Wraith, first of all, I love you how much? I love you more than the terror I felt when – while in the midst of STL midnight urban exploration – I nearly fell into a slurping lightless black crater in the midst of an abandoned industrial building. More than that, ‘tch.
With that out of the way. Deliberation, slow, methodical, still sporadic and spontaneous but with leagues of distance (empty stillness distance) between the footfalls. Or I prefer to think of the drips of water falling from the faucet echoing in the bathroom when you’ve finally given up hating the sound and have begun to enjoy their company.
Whoa. Check my head. Compost.