Object Prime in a room full of chaff and castaway hand me downs. her presence was narcotic; you got high off her, but there was never enough to go around and she' move on and leave you jostling for just a bit more. it's difficult to explain. once i came close to her; close to that gaze, and she'd given me a conspirational look; eyes and teeth flashing wit the shared knowledge that in the little collection of people she might as well have been British Royalty.

i imagine Cairo in soft focus.

Hazy.

i see men clothes in swarthy clothes, chewing tobacco and speaking colloquy. and i see him. im not sure about his position in my life now. telling me one thing and telling someone another. everything seemed orange. but somehow he was more light brown than orange. he gave me an awkward eye, something so abstruse that i didnt know what it meant.

but his loyalty is still there. i can sense it. but only time will tell if my intuition is accurate. i hope it is, since my own sense of loyalty is not displaced. at least i dont think so.

life's vicissitudes have again brought me to the brink of giving up.

i dont know who i am any longer. i dont know who are my friends, i dont know who is with me. i may not even know who is against me. i dont even know which is the worse of the two.

ive always maintained that extreme despondence or joy is still better than cleaving to the quotidian, the great middle range of experience between exaltation and terror. but the quotidian sounds like a very good alternative to me right now.

i am not a nice person. but neither am i about to start some quixotic self castigation in the hope that i would change for the better. by His grace i possess the redemptive awareness of my own faults - not all can cope with an image of his own condition.

the recent happenings have smashed the wall of reserve and apprehension which my past experiences had served to erect.

conflict brings unhappiness, unhappiness poisons existence.

conflict with your loved ones emasculates the need for existence.

loss of sleep, appetite, and tears. fuck. life does suck. i didnt think i would cry for a long time.

but no, of course im not gonna kill myself. i wouldve thought that i have gotten past that stage. when she dumped me.

i feel so helpless. i hate it when im helpless. be it sacrifice or acquiescence, so long as i can give up something, i can deal with it. but to not be able to positively do anything is a feeling i have not felt for sometime.

again it leads back to whence she dumped me.

the feeling is strangely reminiscent. the situation is different, but it sparks the same reaction and sentiment. its kinda odd. by sheer Wittgenstein logic, that would suggest that the situation must necessarily be similar enough, ceteris paribus.

mutatis mutandis, one of the people in my life now must mean as much to me as she did then.

i need some space. and i thank her for granting me that. but im not sure if it is enough. its stuffy, almost im almost claustrophobic. but i wouldnt give her up for the world.

its a vicious cycle. i cant eat, i cant sleep. i cry. then i drink. even when there is still that sickly feel at the back of my throat and in my stomach from last night. alcohol and nicotine. two characters that i know will be there whenever i need them.

its comforting