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Oct. 2nd, 2010 02:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
derdriuiDisclaimer: I've never written anything like this before. I do apologize for the melodrama. Any and all concrit most appreciated.
"Haven't you ever heard of the healing power of laughter?" -- The Joker, Batman
In forming my plan I thought of you, and you most of all. I’d get a little shy about telling you, because, like I said, it’s all about you. My you. And that’s the most fabulous part of the whole cake: when you’re lying through your teeth to your bossman or running through fields or whatever the fuck you do now on the other side of the world, I’m here and I’m in control of you. I have the power to define you. Ever thought about that? I’m a connection that you established and what I write down on this piece of paper sitting blank in front of me, what I do with these pills or this scarf or that pair of scissors, I change your perception of yourself. I can define you and change you and maybe you won’t be my you, but you’ll turn from my uncontrollable seasickness into my second choice.
You ever hear of those people who don’t think it’s funny when someone falls down? Yeah, me neither. I think they were lying because fuck, fuck, fuck it’s funny to think of you sitting down in a cold room thinking and thinking about what this means, what I mean, why I wrote those little lovesick words (I have the perfect poem to write on the heartshaped card, a little glitter and a lot of time to pretty it all up) to you, knowing that I did this to spite you but there’s no evidence, and then the paranoia crawls in and now everybody’s judging you and how’re you gonna behave now?
What I love most of all is the thought of you in hot rooms, in temperature controlled rooms, in different countries, on different continents, tripping into alternate states of consciousness and at the bottom of it all there’s me, there’s this idea of me, and I’ll be stronger there than you ever let me be.
Some scars are part of you. They contour you. I’m taking normal with me and it’s the best thing ever. You think I don’t deserve to know you? I get to decide who you are.
Popped the pills. Signed my heartfelt little poem.
Heel, bitch.
"Haven't you ever heard of the healing power of laughter?" -- The Joker, Batman
In forming my plan I thought of you, and you most of all. I’d get a little shy about telling you, because, like I said, it’s all about you. My you. And that’s the most fabulous part of the whole cake: when you’re lying through your teeth to your bossman or running through fields or whatever the fuck you do now on the other side of the world, I’m here and I’m in control of you. I have the power to define you. Ever thought about that? I’m a connection that you established and what I write down on this piece of paper sitting blank in front of me, what I do with these pills or this scarf or that pair of scissors, I change your perception of yourself. I can define you and change you and maybe you won’t be my you, but you’ll turn from my uncontrollable seasickness into my second choice.
You ever hear of those people who don’t think it’s funny when someone falls down? Yeah, me neither. I think they were lying because fuck, fuck, fuck it’s funny to think of you sitting down in a cold room thinking and thinking about what this means, what I mean, why I wrote those little lovesick words (I have the perfect poem to write on the heartshaped card, a little glitter and a lot of time to pretty it all up) to you, knowing that I did this to spite you but there’s no evidence, and then the paranoia crawls in and now everybody’s judging you and how’re you gonna behave now?
What I love most of all is the thought of you in hot rooms, in temperature controlled rooms, in different countries, on different continents, tripping into alternate states of consciousness and at the bottom of it all there’s me, there’s this idea of me, and I’ll be stronger there than you ever let me be.
Some scars are part of you. They contour you. I’m taking normal with me and it’s the best thing ever. You think I don’t deserve to know you? I get to decide who you are.
Popped the pills. Signed my heartfelt little poem.
Heel, bitch.
