I have this taste. It’s a weird taste and yet a flavor I have had before.
The first time I became aware of this bitterness was when I went to the acupuncturist to have a procedure. I had not been able to recover from tendinitis in my right hand, not been able to work at all for months. Yes, months.
So, there I was. My hand looking like Jesus Christ… more needles than ever. And as the needles “healed” me (which they actually did), a strong bitter flavor invaded my mouth. I remember telling my doctor that I had a taste of “blood.” I have no idea if that is how blood tastes, but that was my most accurate description.
I can taste blood now.
I feel numb.
I can’t focus.
I can’t eat.
I’m here alone and feel that I cannot complain about it because this is the life I chose. Right?
I chose every little corner of this life.
Why can’t I find contempt? Why am I always so absent-minded, so defensive, so closed… so closed and open at the same time?
It is as if I am waiting for someone to save me while I am putting all the obstacles.
I’ll pay for you… anytime…
It is as if I was waiting for someone to believe that I am able to overcome all this and become the woman that he dreams about...
And you told me you wanted to eat all my sadness
Does that even exist: "the dreamed girl"...
What’s always in the way?
Why so damn absent-minded? Why so scared of romance?
I suddenly knew why.
This modern love… breaks me!
This modern love… wastes me!
This modern love…
And just like that, I bought myself tickets for Bloc Party. And whatever stupid little guilt I had of being myself disappeared.
I am not going anywhere. Humanity. Deal with it.
Fuck Leon Punk Effin Baby
Fuck everyone
But me.
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