Daily Archives: 24 December 2008

DVD’s

I look through my DVD’s. It hurts.

i don’t have many. I don’t buy things that I can not download for free. Fuck that. I mean, whatever.

But I love film. And I will buy DVD’s.

…of the the films that have taken me. Raped me or something.

And though it hurts, I like it. I need it.

and that’s why it hurts.

because rape is never soft and pleasant. It hurts. OHhhhh, it hurts sooo deeeply. Rips and thrusts. Forever and ever. Most innocent flesh of one’s being. pink. You think it will never end. It rips further. But at this point, it’s absurd.

and you’re mind wanders. and pain is no longer pain. The ceiling; the tiles. That is what it becomes. count.

Yeah, fuckin’ right. I am small. I am tight. I am scared. Each thrust an electric shock of impossibility ripping myself. me. The tiles never do their job. my brain cannot glaze.

it hurts. forever.

and I have to pretend forever.

But if it didn’t hurt, it wouldn’t mean anything.

and that’s what the DVD’s are. They are that important. I need to see them, but I don’t want to tear.

…my soul… not my vagina.

and don’t worry. I was never raped.

not that way. I don’t think.

seriously.

beside… who would ever want to rape me?

I mean, it’s a question that comes up sometimes as I’m very reckless. And it’s all good. I don’t want to be raped. I mean, who does? But as reckless as I’ve been. A subconscious, unconscious, semi-conscious chick…

I have to ask the question… derelicts and sex addicts and general boys in bars saunter around New York at crazy times of night.

i mean, what’s wrong with me that you won’t assault me? or even look at me?

I’m just saying. chicks get raped all the time. I couldn’t even get raped passed out on my stoop or in a bathroom bar, high on meth and toxically wasted.

…but then again, I did live in the heart of Chelsea.

 

They say…

“you can’t always get what you want… but if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need.”

see, this is a problem when one doesn’t need anything.

oh…. shut up. shhh! shut the fuck up.

I acknowledge that I need stuff. okay?

Categorically.

The needs of physical existence.

which is what… matters, I suppose. You’re dead… you don’t need. …and you certainly do not have the capacity to want.

and this is precisely where I… “you can’t always get what you want” as if want where less important than need. a neccessity… a need… one NEEDS…

I want meth. but, the argument can be made that I don’t need it.

No… for my corporeal self to continue exist… I don’t. I’ve “lived” over a year without it. I’m healthy and alive.

i get to work on time. early… ha, could anyone believe that?

I’m sorry, I don’t want anyone to think bleak things… but, then again, no one reads this shit. I don’t care if I’m alive, if I’m not on meth.

FYI, the past year has been the most uncomfortable subtlely excrutiating experience of my entire life. I’d tilt my head and say it’s something else. I’m doing well. or whatever.

I can only tilt my head so far.

I’m easily distracted.

but I’m sorry, I’m not retarded.