Jamming Word Machine Gun

firing range.
take position.

It's been a while.

A moment stretched in time.

The emptiness of my life, filled with seconds, random delays, "double cheese", conductivity of handshakes, awaiting, avoidance and ultrasonography of my yesterdays.

Exonerated...yet again? Not this time.

I'm still here, in this stretched moment, that will last for another while or two. I'm still here even though I never thought of staying up so late, here on this planet, for that long. 

This supposed to be only 17 years.

17 years was meant to be ONLY for me. 

For me "due to circumstances", 

for me - lost somewhere in between my mother and father, their fights till death torn them apart, 

for me - to tell you a story, to teach you, to make you see more than I ever saw and noticed these 2 inches far from my long nose, but all what's left was a fable I fail to understand and translate, with my disability of comprehending SIMPLE facts, with my (eternally confused) attempts to communicate with environment, with you, and at last with myself. I still fail at understating feelings, crippled emotions I juggle with every day and when they fall back due to twisted sobriety of my soul, they bounce back on my head with a power of a sledge hammer. 

But at the end of every day, I ONLY feel without knowing without understanding any matter, without inhaling and exhaling love, without eating it with spoon and slurping love soup from the bowl of life. How sad it is... that is, if that's sad anyway.

I just feel, I ONLY feel I f-e-e-l. DAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

unlock.

aim.

 

So you think you do have a mission, you feel you were born for a higher purpose, you can feel it, do you, you are different, you can feel you are here because ..OK it doesn't matter because of what or who, lets don't get into details, because you know you are The Chosen One.

fire.

Once there was you, you came you sneaked crouching like a little strained pussycat, with your big short blond thick like bear's fur haystack hair and pair of this Bambi big wet eyes curled with fluttering lashes shadowing your pretty small modeled nose that was there on your face just to pinpoint your killer smile of these lusty beautiful lips you thought and red "PORNSTAR" tee to show your perky bullet shaped bouncy boobies, flat humming belly and super short super tight hot-pants to show off your hips rounded with your over-shaped ass attached to your thighs spelling your silk skinned legs and there was an ersatz of a coffee at Starbucks I didn't feel like drinking just to puff away a moment between one pack of Dunhill and your wide open inviting legs after that jumbo chicken wings i even liked for a moment of the crystal bracelet and emptiness of that place, it was "The LOVe" till death us...and scooter, children we already had planned, a dog, ghosts of the scorched to the bones city, spirits of the past, your insanely jealous possessive checks on me name recalling and smell tests mystical and mythical transcendent lovely perverted awkwardly passionate sexuality soaked in blood and those chicks watching us in admiration and jealousy and envious animosity and yes we never really fucked all those years it was merely a foreplay not lovemaking and Humvee of all unusual because we were so cool and meant for each other and I was the one you were waiting your whole life and there was nothing else you ever wanted and needed and your father gave me a wooden ethnic gift standing now dusty somewhere in the corner of my room with this sprayed by you on his vulgarly carved base scent of lets say Summer by Calvin Klein that lasted for a bit just to turn into hatred somewhere in exotic tropical location with your well acted tears holding my hands in your whispered words that tells well manipulated truths. 

Please stop calling me "hubby" when you feel like you CAN, we never been married. 

Finally I don't feel guilty. 

reload.

tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock

fire!

Once upon a time there was a love. Shaped like Miss Universe suffering of like Einstein's geniality alienation disorder super intelligent outcast sentenced to be cursed with beauty of her face and unreal almost goddess like body and slut like manners of man eater so she was angry because I ignored  her hand and her overwhelming presence stirring boys to fight on erections tensed up by your untouchable out of reach not for them too far too high too hot too handle and I didn't ignore I was just scared of you and also your adoring me for what I was I am, I didn't want to I was right I was there and i knew the future you didn't want to listen to know about you took me by a surprise skillfully directed to happen if that's possible and it happened and lasted for years without ending smeared in days like these one two three four five elements of your never ending fugues and mazurkas of trauma tears and sticking on and not letting go and your lovers and you anger and professional almost process of rejecting them when i found out and your affairs broken into my life my silence my willing presence and lack of sex due to confusion and your tears that i never asked you and I left you because I wasn't alone and there was my Asiatic trip literary perverted girl and I was away with her and you didn't want to accept that there is someone real and I'm not yours only anymore and your feeling to me "slacked" as you said because I was don't know where and don't know why with don't know who named bunga but not that Ipoh Malaysia born element you knew and didn't understand because of my ex and how could I and she was mean you loved her to hug me when you girls were crying instead of cat fights because that was cuter and more complex and most of all I left you alone in this world of Everything and Everyone lame "everything but us" and finally you saw I removed, your name from my family list of contacts oh yes and your family your strangely immature mother and terribly old rude too smart too handle father famous person not messing not going down to us normal people of not enough recognizable VIP status unmarked by some Nobel Prize factor and your tiny room and to lock ourselves from the world and I removed you again from the family list of contacts and you saw that again and because you suffered with that way way years years younger sinfully handsome dude and you wanted me back for your eternal holding me back and your bipolar personality that talked with ghosts that YOU so offended on rhetorically asked bash cheerful happily unaware statement they cast to you you love him that Robbie of yours you liked to explode because who the fuck they are to say to you since you are the most and the only.

jam

So, slacked into we can't be friends anymore which translates into another trauma and I supposed to share with you or to do something but I feel I don't and I shouldn't move even I was tired 

I was 

jammed

I am your friend faithfully I didn't know you loved me you didn't love me when I thought you do then was too late to ask you to be mine from these almost four inches taller head of yours now I deleted your phone number and it tastes like freedom.

hiss.

reload.
wait for the target. 

Now I'm empty, now I'm worn off and alone. I smile to the zombies and dance with disposable paper cups on the sidewalk in between shooting ranges in my head, filling my nights till the very end of my strengths.
Is there any "me" left in me? Hallooooooo? When I turn back into past i see nothing but a void, nothingness. 
You say there's only here and now, there's no tomorrow and no yesterday, you think you are right.
How about Thursday?
Oh and you clicking in pink to me from Chicago, you said you were wrong because I am just like the others, just like everyone, the same, and I wonder, is it good or bad and who are THE OTHERS. Who are they...
Then you said you are worried, and you hope I'm OK, I'm OK I'm always OK I feel I can make it whatever it is, I feel i can, I think I can move my hands and I can walk to another day like I used to do it before, just like... the others?

I'm just a bit scared to call my mother. I ran out of ideas to talk about, not to break her, not to make her ...
on my mark, left window, barrage fire. 

 

 My mother.. cease fire

This isn't right. 

That girl so far and so close to me, she was there, sitting heavily drowned in silence with her hands covering her face and her feelings.

Her useful habit of filling space with sad songs that tells for her, letting it out without spilling a word about being weak and so sad, so damn sad, when only her translucent almost, of cold and humid gentle reddish fingertips were telling the truth of her wet eyelashes soaked with hopes now broken and simply betrayed love... she was loved all this while but she didn't know, it wasn't right it wasn't right the same way it is not right now and this Earth that suddenly happen to be slippery, even this Earth was rejecting her feet. That girl blessed the moments when wind and rain were painting her sorrow on the window glass, she was loved, but she didn't want to know, she wanted her old smelly jacket, her old times her old firm future that wasn't sure nor firm at all. She was loved all this while.

This isn't right that I drink wine at 7:30 am and it isn't right that I want so much to finally press the button PUBLISH POST, but it is right that I will let this out.

...So you think you do have a mission, you feel you were born for a higher purpose, you can feel it, do you, you are different, you can feel you are here because ..OK it doesn't matter because of what or who, lets don't get into details, because you know you are The Chosen One...

Even if you are chosen to duck away shots on the firing range.

I will love you till the end, no matter who you are.

over and out.