la cruda verità |
{ the naked truth. } { ms. raych. } trouble since 1986. tiny little mess with curls as a crown. { follow me } where ever i go most of them do: twitter. - FB. -- myspace. -- flickr. if you add me, please shoot me a message or @mention. { credit where credit is due. } unless otherwise noted: these photographs and words belong to me. |
“luis” a stop motion animation.
“lucia” a stop motion animation.
Dermaphoria by Craig Clevenger.
thanks suicidewatch.
i look at people younger than me
and try to excuse their behavior because of their age…
i try to think of myself when i was their age;
i say to myself “did i seriously act like this?”
and overwhelmingly the conclusion i come to is that
i don’t remember being that fucking stupid.
“the reprise” click the image for thomas doyle’s website.
enjoy.
really inspiring train set. forgive the lack of source.
the world’s on fire out there and i get to touch, to taste, to feel… the heat warms my bones and drip drip drip ice block chest cavity fills with lukewarm water and i begin the long and arduous process of defrosting; i hope that thing’s not freezer burnt after so long in “safe” keeping. a laughable matter: the crowned “ice” Queen melts around heat just like any other frozen object. it’s like chinese water torture but a constant reminder, a smack in the face, a surprise! so this is what i’d been missing… what i’d thought i had found in you and you and you and you… what had once seem so important is minuscule and impotent as a threat. the lovely tall drink that i can lock eyes with and not flinch; he is what happens take the package deal and upgrade it. you’ll see my sweet sweet triumphant reward for all the effort i’ve put in. all those tiny qualities i had found in others, that had been far outweighed by their short-comings; he holds them all in cool, quiet nonchalance without boast or brag or expectation. this is my calm respite after the hard time i’ve done. this is where i get to smile and actually mean it, not be able to contain myself, and not want to hide it. this is not ends meet; this is not an act of desperation or loneliness; this is not the ability to convince myself that i am safe amongst snakes because they just so happened to be in the pit when i fell in and made a home for myself. this is not the innate need to teach; maybe to learn and share but not to instruct. in a split second you stop thinking about what has persistently ailed you and you start drinking in the cure. all of the swallowing the metallic tinge induced by speaking of the bad times and not being able to remember the good ones without feeling delusional… that’s over. there comes a point where you suddenly, often involuntarily and without your own knowledge, drop and stomp the pain endured and to focus on the intense ecstacy you’ll be enjoying. it’s quite a switch trying to stop yourself from hungrily salivating for the future rather than spitting and seething over the past. it’s a wonderful moment when what you’ve pined for years turns into a corpse and buries itself in your subconscious because it’s mild and mediocre existence is no longer the best you’ve known, the most intensely you’ve felt, the closest you’ve gotten to the pinnacle of all you’ve asked for. for once what has been given is returned and i am fawned over not in monetary value or attention but affection that is genuine and heartfelt; not forced or required or begged for but thoughtfully showered over me. i have always wanted, longed for, idealized someone who could manage to love as hard. the truth is what i really should have been doing was looking for something deserving of what i’ve had to offer; someone not capable of being stifled and swallowed up by me or by my very existence. everything up until now was just a practice run to prepare me and make me capable of appreciating what i have been handed. it is a relief to be so free of hatred; of both myself and others; that i no longer want to destroy everything that i touch but treasure what i hold. and to allow myself to be held? that is a milestone in itself. fuck the pedestal i’ve lain on, a throne to fill, holding sovereign over a court, the shoddy and leprous plebeians, the temporary amusement of jesters, the many false kings that have been put to death, the crown that i have left. fuck it all. true royalty has the trappings of their office written all over their faces. i have someone that when i stand next to him i can stand tall. no fairy tales, metaphors, empty bottles, smoke, mirrors, or bars necessary. no crutches to lean on, nothing to prove, nothing to lose. i don’t have to lean on or hold up anything. no more patron saint of lost causes, no more staunch stoic martyr for love, no more is the feeling of deserving the suffering or requiring punishment. all the bad is gone out of my life. and i didn’t think twice or bother to give it a kiss with my goodbye.
” to say ‘i love you’ one must first be able to say the ‘i.’ ” thanks, ayn.
i.
SINATRA