Recycling

[Sepia]

It begins with a growl, a werewolf standing on the outskirts of a city on a hill, screaming blue murder at the moon. It sniffs the air, howls and jumps out of focus in one leap. Next, we see a party, mangled beyond and there's no relationship between anyone there, it's an odd party, college kids being fashionistas and very breakfast at tiffany's brought up to speed in 2008, the party you always want to head out to.

One thousand whores stand in the living room, starry eyed watching the television of a man, soon 30 dying, black rings underneath his eyes accompanied by the music we love so much, the music stating and going firmly into shock, growing out of the ellipse they were born into, every perfect cage is not made of iron, is not black and isn't a cage in the sense because this ellipse is no illusion, break at it with your tools and weapons and it doesn't sway, it doesn't give in, it isn't any of your illusions nor any of our delusions and it isn't a prison, it isn't what will set you free when you meet it, it isn't death and it's neither human nor humane.

We want to be able to counteract what is being acted, we want it to be coherent for us, we want this world to make sense the way we've taught ourselves how it is to make sense and we want all of it to fall in under our system of understanding -

too many nights awake, contemplating humanity, destiny, life and every other bullshit theory you can get your hands at, living through these movies, living through the books realizing you're only doing this to keep the charade and to look for people that are like you, people who thought like you to find some comfort that people have been where you are and you find what you want, you find accounts of werewolves howling into the night and how lonely a werewolf really is, a diary filled with tears and clawmarks.

What do you want to hope for? An undying hope? An unyielding courage? Change? Innovation? Better lives for you and yours? Prosperity in the way you and yours think of politics, think of economy? Understanding? Peace? Love? Hate? Despair? Another shot of heroin tomorrow so you can forget you ever existed?

WRONG PLACE WRONG TIME WRONG ADDRESS WRONG COLOUR said bryon gysin at a later part of his life, after he'd been every bum boy's messiah in tangier for a decade, creating something so completely different, out of space, out of time like making a beat with a gun.

What did you hope for then? Revolutions and reforms? You found it viable, didn't you? You saw that there'd be coming a new world order and you were on the new side, weren't you? All you ever wanted to do was to fuck her and you did it this way and you spent all your scheming hours on her and you thought about her every time you wanked or every time you got wood, you saw her face everywhere and you had fallen deeply, stuck and you spent so much time and when you finally got to put your cock into her mouth you ejaculated the second tongue met throb and you grew red, blushing like a schoolgirl and when you apologized it came so naturally, mechanically like this act, rehearsed and thought through, tried and tested and you were on the verge of crying with made you think about the scene in two towers where gandalf comes with the exiled rohirrim but you didn't understand why

She drinks what is you while you apologize profusely and your mind is racing and you don't know what to say for this wasn't what you imagined the past three years, this wasn't how it was supposed to go down and the only thing you're doing is thinking about her the way she was in your head and you snatch your cock away from her and begin to wank furiously hearing the thundering of blood pumping through your cock in your head and you disappear into your own world now

she places her hand on your arm, it's cold and you can feel every nook in her skin waking you up, jerking your eyes at her and she's looking straight at you, still with her knees on the floor saying

the physical will always be unimportant, i think i love you

[Cramulus]

jarring.

[Jenne]

Awesome as usual, Sepia.

[The Littlest Ubermensch]

 

One of your best. That one hit home, really, really strongly.

[Sepia]

Thank ye. I'm just ranting.