Locked

Envisioned summer escape came true. It birthed its existence rapidly. High dynamic range rendering of the location, conditions euphorically simulated, sun air trees grass. I can account for every poignant passing thought that may have birthed this circumstance, of course the only validity in this justification is soothing a starving soul. to be more at ease. to not jump ahead. each point of longing in the sun, highlighting something was absent in the scene, a shadow not casted, the composition incomplete, photoshopped out, picture cut lopsided the view but to crop out vacancy. When I first saw a google image of where he lived. Blissful town. Did I ever say it bothered me. it was a taunt, it was the first delivered material to build the highway wall, the road, the runway between us. It was an image far from the future. Perhaps I wanted to keep my vision of the timeline provincial, dull, idiotic. One picture was a stadium, but in my minds eye it was an olympic dome, high status arena, and the beams of the structure symbolized transformations I was going to go through in increments of 5 years. I was seized with envy. I didnt want to be dull. He was born in a hyper real place and was afforded a gift bestowed to residents to be hyper real and to develop that, to keep it and play with it. I had spent too much time in my life bitter at the muddy water essence of each residential unfolding. I was cocky and thought the places took something hyperreal from me. It took a real testing of this concept, experiences of being ravaged to just be happy to have a residence. But the picture touched on a suppressed preference and irritation at being broken down to appreciate something that intuitively was uninspiring on first impression was circuitous, a waste and mismatch.

At this time I was entering a devolution of my own graphics. This was a part of our first meeting. The clarity of his world felt like migraine inducing needles of light. Acupuncture to the gel of the eye, and I resisted which were the tools and crew to commence the project of our distance. I had to get far away and enter a sustained sublimation that was going to render me utterly useless to him. I knew this very early on. Despite seeming so absent minded years later. I had never been tortured with such a longing to pursue his world, to climb up and join him, to allow myself to fall into possession, to perform a Magnum opus of hedonism and follow him there, but the picture said I wasnt allowed. to enter the city. I was incongruous. If I was given what I wanted I wouldnt be, and I had to identify with this world I resented as we were both on the other side of the line. I kept this to myself and slowed contact. His interactions with me were of the same language of the subconscious voice that I obediently listened to, I thought he was my secret, I thought he wasnt in this world, he elucidated, I was a novice, things zoomed past my senses, not any tied to my body, it happened behind a screen, multiple layers of obstruction, but he would render the full image of what I thought I caught, maybe I caught the color and the image would be that color on a car, the accuracy terrified me, it was beyond my conception something that clear could be created. what kind of twisted machine did he have. where was he that he could build such a thing. Like keeping a screenshot from your dream, the most powerful thing you could do as an image lover. He said Id ignore him, my poor child Im sure youve disengaged into an amniotic sack when sorting through stuff that preceded you bored you to tears. He punctured the impervious sack and the liquid ripped out, indicative. my whole life in the muddy water, I let my eyes get cloudy, infected with parasites, I let my vision deteriorate, out of my displeasure. If I stuck by my pleasure, well…my displeasure even limited my concept of connection of conceivable ideal outcome. Ah to have the same caliber, then we could play was what I assumed, what I longed for and what I kicked myself for. I turned away and the classic magazine dropped. He wasnt my secret. I kept my fist clenched for two years.

I was devoted to purifying myself, to become congruous. The new year of the year that I sedated myself, I blacked out for the first time. I was recorded screaming at the top of my lungs, sustained for idk how long, completely inconsolable. I woke up for 2 durations in the shower, I was sore. I was throwing myself off the bed and hitting my head on concrete. My boyfriend at the time begged me time and time again to listen to the recording but I refused, I even felt disgusted he would record it to show me later. These were emotions and impulses that I knew stirred in me but spent a lifetime creating an appropriate distillation apparatus, I was betrayed before I gave myself a reason to. Even with the sedation the images hurt more than before. The increase in distance, this time calculated with how far I was underground silenced the initial inkling I had that he would pick up on. I was buried, between the two of us he was speaking alone. It compiled the nightmare. One time I subtweeted, I spoke contemptuously and he responded. I remember now I was afraid to check it. The message was innocent. this was my first memory this assurance wasnt going to save mine or our fate. His hope and eagerness was a guarantee of the impending decay. Let me carry our burden in peace without you knowing. Stop taunting me with what I know inherently I am denied. Take the lack of explanation with grace, and later you want to tell me youre cleaning up when I kept the place pristine with no contaminants for years. All this to say, my irritating trait, the many faces, the lack of steadfast beliefs was a smoke screen, a veil of protection. I kept it elusive, I wanted someone to ask, well whats going on back there. I took this duty resentfully, do you think I was going to really sacrifice the last of my sanctity fleshing out a thorough decoy. And if someone were to ask I had to evaluate, how impervious they would be to the radiation. Not once has someone passed. It is not my accrued dark secret. He was born of the hyperreal and I was born from a lineage of self sacrificial anguish. I am lucky, the break in the timeline, my duty is to give a voice, to homage to put to rest these things that are not my own. I am a conduit, and to feel at home to appear more human, I simultaneously put myself in situations to match this, to render my reactions and propensity of my expression logical for people, while also attracting generational things that want to be put to rest.

Our recent reunion is not relevant. the soil is too fresh. My defense and righteousness peak but I allow a softening, it was romantic actually, and the birth of what Id consider a beautiful monster.

But this summer I was allowed to enter the city, maybe I wanted to believe that it could happen in reverse, a love that followed a mutilation. I could see the future again, and I began to climb steps past novice. the light did not bring me pain months before it got warm.

My tone is authoritative or cocky again but there is something I fear in the winter that precedes this summer. That this city that allows me in is the one from years ago. And the version of him there is the one still hopeful before our reunion. If I were to lament the failure of my duties, I would be in a very different place. Im reluctant to commit.

I run laps while he reads lol. I try to get a video of the two activities without him noticing. Its an indulgent video and I have to scrunch my face awkwardly to hold the phone still and zoom in, its too obvious of an action. Studio Ghibli ass hill with the clouds. Neither of us care about how long each other takes.

what happened to rolling or running down hills? I guess we could try it but doesnt rolling make you itchy I think I wont be able to stop myself from laughing uncontrollably so be prepared for that! arent we almost 30? hahahahaha wait we havent started rolling but I think if I look at you rolling down the hill hahahahha that image is going to kill me its kind of embarrassing right? should you close your eyes and I do a test if its still fun? You know youre just going to end up laughing and Im going to have to listen to your laugh in cyclical motion and its just going to tempt me to open my eyes. I think Im more embarrassed about seeing you roll than I am having you see me. wait why? idk youre very respectable. well youre right, I dont roll unless its spontaneous. the longer we talk the more I wont roll. Will it make you happy to see me roll? yes Ok!!!! Wait! But run to the bottom mid way through so I can roll into you but not in a painful way. Then we both can get in running and rolling haha okay! whatever transpires is a scene between the two of them. I didnt know if you wanted me to just stand there and have you roll into my ankles ahah. wow you look beautiful and I love this up the shorts shot. Lol wtf.

A few nights in the trip he did not come back to the house. He went foraging or searching for something, he didnt explain. It was rare for me to wake up so early, I had asked my dreams to answer questions before bed, sat with the feeling in the dark of watching an animation of ellipses. It was a hypnosis that stirred images in my head: yellow dragons, plateau expeditions, mid century modern bus seats, toilets that looked like chemo machines that scared kids under the age of 5. the sinks in the bathrooms emulating a plateau like a business conference room where people could pitch their ideas to you and you had to follow them on social media with ur wet half washed hands. Community services tables blocking the entrance to the public outdoor bathroom. Dinner parties hosted on someones bed and the spread was on their dresser. It wasnt definitive, just descriptive, of homogenous objects and scenes with 10,000 different qualities which alluded to the nature of my question. I was afraid to use up what I had and afraid to mentally acknowledge him to spark my own individuation. To withdraw my own projections, I wanted him to have no claim or spot to exist in the new construction. But if i removed him, I was despondent and couldnt build, I would languish. When I decided to commit and if in time this was another mistake I would own it, he returned, blue of dawn. There were 3 of us now, I had created my secret.

Ideas about how to spend our week were like champagne bubbles lol. We had many free cameras that we found with different pixel resolutions, this was abundance, we carelessly lugged them around in a vagabond knapsack.

We could make a movie. Yeah yeah.

I laid in the grass. Im bad at being the subject of the camera you seem fine, Youve taken a lot of pictures of yourself yeah but I have to be alone. Its very intimate. I feel I emanate something very serious. And when others take pictures I feel I have to cover it up neutralize it, and then the picture turns out grotesque or skewed essence. Im not making it up. Ive seen people disappointed in how I squirm why? why do you squirm? I have the outline of memories. I think my father molested me. Theres a lot of evidence. I did a how to recognize child abuse course in my sedation year. That isnt the poignant point. He was molested too, so in turn we must feel sad for him if that was the point. The point is its hard for me not to believe that I seduced him, I have tried. thats crazy. the last time I was this honest I told my friend in the library that I thought everyone wanted to kill me and he was like ….no one wants to kill you. and then I believed him and dropped it so you want me to do the same? youre asking me to solve this? No. I just wanted to be honest with you. well you didnt seduce him. I feel like Ill invite unwelcome things if I dont obscure myself. You dont have to say anything to this. I just wanted to be honest. But sometimes youre so close in my head I think you already know everything. I dont want to get a pic of you crying. then Ill get pictures of you instead!!! You should be the star!!! Youre the most beautiful thing to walk this earth!!! haha aw thanks. we could practice taking pictures though, Ill tell you if youre looking grotesque. trust me. LOL! Ok!

I had obviously done a lot of fortune telling. Maybe i imagined the wind would blow all my cards and coins into the ocean, and the fish could be like will I be eaten today? I think i was lucky. A voice that loved and hated me spoke through my idea of him, I was closer to completing the cleaning. My intuition delights me with this idea that I make sure to temper that this was preliminary, we both got what we wanted and I get to continue my diligent journey to transform into something congruous, if not for him then for someone similar. Ive said a million times and perhaps its finally the time of application, but my ethos is that the greatest work of art are relationships. Like the hoader who died from his collapsed tower of books/newspapers, I was under my own contraptions of obstruction, to project many faces, whatever anyone wanted I was ancillary, I was lucky someone stepped in before I bring something into a loathsome place. Ill take whatever I can get, youre the one who made it the closest to my plasma nexus. I can see the future again, theres a beautiful world that awaits both of us individually.

20 Jan 2024