Naked Heart
Spit out my naked heart for judgement.
I
am an intense person. I enjoy intimacy. I enjoy going deep. I want to do what I
want to do to the extreme. I don’t want ten minutes. I don’t want superficial
acquaintances. I want brothers and sisters, I want lovers, I want to go all the
way.
Oh
my god that local sports team! Wowzers your dress is so cute! That weather!
Boy oh boy, that food item gives me such mouth pleasure. I could not give a fuck
less! Does free will exist? What heuristics do you come closer to truth by?
What are your principles? When that formative life experience happened how did
it transform you? I get that the way I rush into this stuff is intensely
creepy. It’s like asking to tickle someone’s insides without getting to know them
for a couple minutes. Perhaps I am impatient. Maybe I feel the conversation can
get stuck in a superficial groove.
I
ham-fist this stuff to make it what I want. Is this just selfish? Hopefully,
other people enjoy going deep as well. Nice paint but let’s explore the inside
of the house. Let’s relive its’ cherished reminiscences, scratch away its’
surface, see its’ rust its’ black mold. Check the wiring.
I look
for depth on two levels:
Intellectual.
Or
Intimate
honesty.
Or
Let
us just joke around.
That
is how I am most of the time in waking life. I am the jokester. Am I just a
desensitized asshole, addicted to sensations that release chemicals in my
brain? Probably so.
Don’t
take me to the place already gone to, been there before. Show me a new street
sign, a new crack in the sidewalk, new old buildings. Your cliches leave me
deaf dumb and mute: another day another dollar, it is what it is, it doesn’t
matter how I’m doing. Let us change some minds, hurt some feelings, reveal
our soul in its’ picturesque hideousness.
Know each other as much as we can know others.
Well, I guess we are all a mix of these things.
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