Love becomes adoration and a drink.
Depression makes each day worse with anticipation as all seems to shatter with forgotten birthdays even my own, because anxiety is the one which rides the dawn, allowing the seasons to change rather than my own mass. All pills are scattered and it’s as if I were to take one it would tell me where to leave and I even wonder which natural to even go for, as in the morning as I flick through catalogues Kate had left, hurrying off somewhere, brushing my teeth in the meantime sometime in the afternoon, watching how each collection seems to be more natural but neither do I seem thrilled from the trend of bright haired colours as I had seemed to left that back in my twenties and nothing seems sacred anymore, besides the rattling anxiety
If mania seems to have depression and anxiety, why do we even call it mania, but that’s becomes it comes with a bunch of bouquets when the GP already transfers you on and asks if you’re delusional.
Sometimes I wonder upon my own thinking, how far does my mind even go and what do I even recall these past four years and when had I lost my memories and which ones had been rebuilt? I wonder how much can they tell from us not speaking as all is written down without us knowing.
Morals in florals. He showed up in a floral suit three-piece, I showed up in a gray one, staring, laying on the grass from below, watching him approach me and lit a cigarette for himself from my mouth, shy to kiss. And it’s as if we’re both tracing steps back, while looking at each other, not knowing which side would be the actual future. I don’t understand why can’t I feel his hand when he touches mine and how come his body isn’t mine and if we die and we’re all together, would life be the isolation cocoon which makes sure that the body will restrict us from being one with another person? So is it why we’re so lonely and we think that love is never enough, that we pierce ourselves and exchange blood just to try and think in the same mind? I wonder how many times do we all even register the same thoughts and what would the most exact repeating thought be and would it even be at a specific time and how long would it even take to register how to bend the knees the wrong direction to have some sense of long during pain, since we’ve got to break free.
And I don’t know how would I even manage to reply to anything like the polaroids he’s got which seem old enough for me to recall, as I can see his thoughts plastered and I wonder if one fears unrequited love and if that then transfers to the partner because by the end of the day we cannot ever reply to the mistakes we’ve made and we can only listen to what they would have to say.
“How do you convince yourself that someone is still open and that the skies are just as pink? That all the scenarios in your head will one day make sense and everything will fall into some blissful for you place?
But would it even be close to bliss for the other person as well? How can you guess ones happiness from just knowing your own?
And I will never know the pain which the other goes through. How silent it is.
How odd it had felt to come across them, recalling how Jamie had told me he had gotten that jacket from Edie Sedgwick from some auction and ended up taking Kate’s clothes off. It seemed far too intimate, to take such jacket and put it on someone, something far too intimate and far too stale in the smell of print just like any reported No Wow orgy in the metro discarded at some train. Yet, I could see it because when we don’t have enough time we wrap our fantasies into our daily life when we’re not happy or our teeth are chained. By the end of the day we push life, death and desire in one because we think we’re not worth more than minute.
That’s what I had thought.” Jack said, already smoking a cigarette as we both sat on the grass lawn and it was more than odd to talk about Kate with me in a bathrobe, hair wet with a shower I could not recall and the phone calls glistering from earlier and all the memories will be of winter when I will not have the courage to understand myself and speak.
And the night sky will turn midnight blue at four am.
“Paul is in a coma. What the fuck do I do?”
“He’s really not waking up, man.” The one voice on the phone, as if holding a dialogue with themselves, calling me again as Jack fiddles with his curly hair, watching ahead and he’s much taller than I would expect a building to be, as I press my head against the walls of the kitchen which should be filled with a joy I could not offer, as I can see Kate spread her legs again to excite some soul which I could never be, as the flashes keep getting taken and photos will be discarded to be avoided, feelings played with as if I were too scattered to even properly get turned on from my own inner demons and it only falls under the rug under what does a man really want. Because I would never be able to answer honestly why had I given Jack those photos, because I had never explained any magazine shoot and neither would I explain treasuring some woman’s naked photos in an Edie Sedgewick jacket.
“He’s really not waking up.”
and I haven’t drank the medication today, so I think of that said Paul, pressing his head heavier into a pillow, thrusting in, turned on and once I’d come he’d wake up, turn around and thank me that I had fulfilled his fantasy.
Maybe that’s why I had taken the photos.
I think what I specifically like about TBASTUIF (xD) is that it's very fluid when it comes to from whose point of view is it, it's surreal and it has all these parallel, dream universes and at the same time the sort of main line which is now after Jamie's stag party and into his married life, so it has frankly everything. I forgot that I started writing a Jamie chapter and I ended up writing today/yesterday a chapter from Jack's point of view and I didn't want to have Jamie's chapter and I pretty much went, I can fucking write everything in here. I'm really being honest.
So I just had a bit of an odd monologue from Jack, which was supposed to be the next chapter. Same goes for the Jamie phone call. I was awfully tired today and when I was napping I have weird thoughts when I started falling asleep, sort of like shallow bizarre dreaming as well, which was what do you do when you can't wake someone up and I guess my mind recalled how I recalled xD the whole sleeping fetish and kind of the whole fucking dead people topic was in my head and I was like, shit, that ain't too consensual and I guess because of the whole people allowing to submit themselves to cannibalism and all, I figured same would be for sleep. It also plays in that these things happen when you're fucked up. I'm pretty much waiting for an appointment to get medication for bipolar, so it's also a bit of an outcry and hyperbole in this case to raise that you shouldn't really go untreated for long if you can, that you're fucked up untreated, yeah, I can look after myself, but it's hard when frankly all that's left is fucking waiting for a slot, y'know.
I don't remember roughly when I started writing the beginning of this Jamie chunk. Looks like I was having some heavy mania with depression, so I'll take that as an explanation because I really like that I talk about mental health here a lot, so yeah.
Throwback to Hince's variety of hair dyes.
I remember back the NHS would give these questionnaires to fill in and etc, so it's more of a wave to that.
When I get depressed I think too much and my own mind becomes toxic, sometimes I force myself to be depressed when I write, like tonight I kind of set up a list to make sure that everything would be captured from the notes in the way I had wanted and I guess it's interesting how usually when I do notes they become the shortest scenes to be honest xD
A few days ago I had recalled for some reason Jamie taking photos of Kate in the Edie jacket so I ended up thinking that it's a good scene or something interesting to write about, so I nurtured that thought and it took me a good while to decide where it would fit best (jeez, even these notes are out of order xD) (I literally saluted at Callie's "this is fucked up" to reading the chapter, I did good).
I remember and in general I feel a bit confused on how come even when we find someone or people, like we still can share everything besides dreaming, death and etc, why does life have to be a bitchy single sort of advocate and one of those why do we dream alone thoughts end up to be honest being, why can't I feel what Callie feels and vice versa, which I described in detail here (I kind of go through years asking that question in stories in different ways since life is supposed to be single for some fucked up way and isn't too couple or poly catering). And on that note I was thinking what if it's the body which holds us up because I got asked what does happen after death and that got me thinking since I kind of recently became more religious/spiritual if you must, so I mused on it because supposedly mediums say heaven exists and I just replied, I think it's much more complex, so I was thinking on it, how I thought it's more spiritual, soul, much less physical, kind of like when you encounter something, so I think it's more closer to that. I'm more of a psychological torture in the mind rather than physical, I don't have the need or feel it soothing or anything, but I still described the kind of feel you get to feel alive, like I would squeeze my hands to get back to reality rather than pain.
Also the whole partner thing, the thinking also falls under those thoughts and hypothesis.
The Edie story kind of echoed with the No Wow orgy for me, but who knows and talking of that Edie kind of echoes with the recent Kate/Jamie photoshoot, which frankly is rather bad and frankly ended up in a bunch of jokes from me and Callie. It's really not flattering to either of them. The other Kate photoshoot which was released around the same time (lazy to google the name) is rather good. I love Kate photoshoots, which is frankly very obvious (I'm tired so I'm typing same letters twice, need to wrap this up xD)
When you're depressed the time distortion is rather high and I used that because I was getting anxious writing and it just made the chapter more mentally health real really xD
I looked at the sky, got inspired, midnight blue shout out to Ezra Koenig.
Fuck Jack's new haircut and this is set in my head around Blunderbuss +/- and he's hot there. (You can tell I'm dead honest tired and writing short explanations but frankly as they should be now instead of beating around the bush xD)
I decided on the kitchen coz they went there and Jamie started thinking of it, therefor he shot her in the kitchen here (I won't lie to claim if a location was given there in the Edie story xD) Sexuality is fucked up and kind of not being able to talk and head out of the closet, fucks you up, that's what the story is about really, I'm so honest even I didn't know that xD
I like ending chapters in a circle sort of thing, besides the part where before Jack comes it's separate, but still, good ending circular explanation. I'm off xD
I hope you enjoyed it and please tell me if you did :3