After the Curtain Call

Original Post Date: Apr 29th, 2009

It's not that the world was lazy today. It's not that it slept in, or was hungover. The morning sun was there, its dim glow warming the sidewalk cement at its most mediocre. The wind was there, blowing half-heartedly in girls' hair like it had never known the giggle of a flirting skirt. The clouds were there, covering calmly, a sky that never looked in a mirror. The world simply couldn't muster the mettle, today, to say, that it cared.

A whore, whose passion was not a part of the price.

Half a dozen lines sprawled out on my page, now. Scattered. Parts of paragraphs I've yet to craft into the figure they deserve to have. So much message, so little inspiration. The day mimicked in my mind like a raincoat in a puddle. What sweet irony that a tale to tell that Life's Muse has fled, is uninspired to be told. This misery seeks no company. Solitude is its own private tutor.

My soul feels damp today.

I give up.

- Z

~~~

Below are the mentioned lines that were crafted but never connected. I commit them now, in the midnight hour, to the ether - a sacrifice to the Muse non-existent.

My favorite depiction of hell is a place that is absent of God. And so the ironists, rebels, and skewed fundamentalists chime together that here is hell. Hell on Earth, when we cast aside God. I chuckle. They say it with fear, anger and conversion in their hearts. They call that Love. I say it too, but with pride, lust and joy in my heart. And I too, call it Love.

My friend said that love is a lie. I said she lied. I lied. We like to lie together. We all fall down.

I like the lie. I enjoy looking into a person's eyes, searching earnestly and meticulously for that inner, innocent hope that they cherish and protect with all their heart. I enjoy showing them where mine is. I enjoy touching them with trust. I imagine that fingertips can convey dreams, and proximity can prove promises.

I like the lust. The lust of a new friendship, a new partnership, a new challenge or a new goal.

Days like today, after a curtain call, are always the toughest.

I traded a hand-delivered cheeseburger for a blow job once. It was fun. The dance is delightful.

Words paint pretty pictures and I know my lines. I enjoy acting out the orgasm. Dali's clock never felt so good!






But not today.