burn everything.

to whom do i address this?

trombone jerome?

jerome. its like this: i understand. i get it. and, although i think its dangerous to jump to asumptions about anything, i assume the reason why i havent heard from you in the last two weeks is because you realised i was getting a bit fond of you, when all you wanted was a sex f(r)iend, so you decided to cut all communication and run a mile.

but you said you d give our kitten a home, so i was kinda hoping you d see that through, at least. the eternal struggle between the things that people say and the things that people do chalks up another casualty.

i dont think you never tried to be my friend. look, i m not blaming you. i m a very difficult person to get to know. i am not open and honest. i do not divulge my secrets. i dont see any point in unburdening myself unto people because, generally, people wont treat you kindly. this is my experience in life and i challenge you to prove me wrong. i think i have lost all faith in the human race because i have my trust violated so many times, by those whom i thought cared the most about me. i m naieve, and they re assholes.

however, i m beginning to realise my present fatalistic attitude is no better than their own callousness. thinking to myself ‘of course i am being treated like shit, it is the way it has always happened, i expect no less from the world’ is THE WRONG WAY TO GO. because we forget to be angry, to rage, to expect better. and we all deserve better, and once i believed that, and i miss that fight. resigning myself to others indifference is a stupid tactic.

those who are the happiest are those who are best at lying to themselves.

i smile, still, everyday i smile, i am blessed to find happiness, beauty and magic in very small and simple things. i dont think thats wrong. if you got to know me maybe you d see that and be able to share in it a little. or maybe not.

i am nothing special. i am merely a person who finds herself in the right place at the right time a few times throughout the course of her life. these moments wield tremendous power. i was an activist once. i managed to shut down a power station with my bare hands and stop construction on a motorway for 3 days. i dont talk about these things anymore. i still get hate mail. its difficult for me to talk about something that is so painful. my big failures. so i take refuge in hidden depths and lie in wait for the next mission. when they come to evict our squat i will be on this side of the barricades. i will lock my neck to the radiator and they will not have an easy time of it, of me.

why do we resign ourselves to the inevitable? is it laziness? sun tzu, the art of war, the ‘fait accompli’, shoot first, ask questions later. its all inescapably connected, like some labyrinth where the minotaur lies in wait, licking his lips because in some other quantum dimension he s already drank your blood and chewed your leg to the bone. no surprises for him. those with the bloodlust always end up on top.

whats your poison? full or fruity red. smokey whites. fine ales. whiskey. whiskey. whiskey a go go. whiskey 82. yes. or just triple vodka and cola. or fuck the pain away, peaches.

i dont blame you. but i was expecting something a bit better this time. at the very least, in a roundabout way, you ve reminded me that better is possible. so for that i thank you.