Its one a.m. and its already "tomorrow". I am dreading the thought of returning to the office. The thought makes me cry. The thought makes me turn this bottle of Fernet Branca upside down against my face. The thought makes me reach out to random strangers, "Am I crazy?" Yes. I am not ready for "tomorrow".
I don't want this moment to end...
Although, its already over...
The leather's been packed away...
The freaks have scattered to maintain their respective lives
We celebrated our day in the Sun. We exhaled audibly outside of the shadows for a change... Outside of the basements... Outside of the exclusive underground that binds us. I am nagged by my depression, "Why are you celebrating the 1/365th of a year you can share the same Sun?" I don't know. The unfurling feels euphoric... liberating... But, the sub sequential re-integration is becoming unbearable.
Damn, I'm out of liquor.
It's 1:34 a.m. and I am stepping deeper into "tomorrow". Although, I have a beautiful woman sleeping next to me, I feel so lonely. Not from the lack of quality company, but from the reality that we are mentioned during Sunday sermons. Kinky. Polyamorous. Sadomasochistic. Queer. We are the people mentioned to get a rise out of the congregation. I feel lonely because a false accusation becomes true because of my rare proclivities.
I am instantly wicked because I am twisted.
This is what happens. Every time fantasies materialize, every time I receive a massive offering of love and service. The reality makes me sick to my stomach. The reality persuades me to escape from "tomorrow". Indefinitely. What if my dissonance indicated that this isn't my "reality"? Instead of cramming myself back into that ergonomically-correct desk, I should be screaming, "Fuck you, vanilla world!"
I damn and praise this awareness that I need a job!
This weekend was beautiful; I will be spending this week writing about all that happened. The problem with beauty, however, is that everything pales in comparison. Its hard to get dressed in a suit and tie, when you've publicly frolicked in the nude. Its difficult to step foot into the office fresh from a game-changing threesome. It's challenging to have a taste of freedom and go back to the same stale coffee. Just to stay alive.
Hopefully, my brain chemistry balances.
Hopefully, reality proves to be a great companion to fantasies.
Hopefully, I have an easy day at work "tomorrow".
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| Images by Michael Macku |
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