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i feel cold, and i am.

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i'm making another mistake, well aware of the consequences. i can't help but submit to his advances.

kill him, or kill me, please.

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or simply void all sentience within me. i can survive without the will to. necessity is only forced by conceptions we've allowed ourselves to believe and create. i can defy these examples of better living.

give me a chance.

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From:
To: "r. evelyth"
Subject: a simulacrum of my protest
Date: Sun, 11 Apr 2004 23:28:33 -0700

maybe someday, you'll answer me. you seem to be the only person i can really express myself with, and be understood, sometimes. i'm listening to ___ song, and i'm in love with.. this. i wish someone would explain it to me, pragmatically.

i wouldn't understand them, anyway.

but they could try. and i would listen, and look at them intensely, until they stopped and asked me if i understood.

i want to hate everyone, and start again, and look around. i'm living in an open prison, but i'm still hunched in the corner, staring at the door, ajar. you'll come and fuck me, calling it love and then you'll hang up the phone on me in the meantime.

yeah, you want me, yeah you need me.

maybe i'll believe in you later.

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she cries alone, in her bedroom, at night.
to wake up, and do it again the next. i watch her, when no one else is.

i tell her to hush. she holds on so tight, to the intangible--how do i make her understand that love is too fantastic to be realistic?