The Incredible Mangoes

july 28th 09

it is 3.15 am


my cup is still full. the lover far away, as if never occurred. as if never real. ive tried to contact her, on ends of ends, but no replies are seeking me. only escapes.

this summer has been surreal and imaginary, as my dreams.

i am shoving disgusting pizza down my throat to end this deewana pan... just like i shoved it down my throat to have enough mental power to begin it. fucking ironic

the sun has finally set after a beautiful day of color and humor and breeze and rain and everything fitting.. it is finally dark now .. so i plug in my lamp and sit here.

i am wide awake, in my little shoebox. lying on an inflatable mattress on the floor with white sheets. it was a horrible night, the first time i slept on it. but the night is being reclaimed, bit by bit.

there is more on her pearly white sheets than she expected. besides the wine she spilled, beside the wine i spilled. there is hair from my sleepless head, there is tobacco and beer from my cabin fever, there is sweat and love from my restless summer, there is pizza sauce from the desire to become sober. there is so much more on her white ass sheets than she expected. but her old brown bedcover is still sacred.

what a mess a man can make. but what a mess a woman in love can make on white sheets.

can i just smoke one more cigarette in my room without hearing movement above my head. trivial things are resounding. a clock ticking on the wall. dim light ebbing out.. oddly shaped emptiness .. from a fading afternoon without her.

im lying here like a chutiya... staring up at the ceiling, wide fucking awake.
the fan is on, rotating lazily but is as good as off. it is barely moving the air around. my room is small stuffy and hot. it is pleasant night outside.

i killed three mosquitos and so my feet are safe tonight.
my brain is completely empty. numb. but i cannot sleep. ive been having disturbing vivid dreams and so the idea of sleep is quite unappealing. my lover is gone, and i am trying to contain myself for the days that shall now pass without her.

i still cant seem to explain what has happened to me. why it has happened and what shall become of this. the future has never been so uncertain, on many levels. i am still like the air before a thunderstorm. i think the worst is not yet over, though i am not sure how much more i can take.

the summer has been less than ideal on all fronts. and i have not even yet dealt with the mistakes i made through the spring. i am so utterly fucked and yet i am just here. chilling. with my brain completely empty. this cannot be healthy in the long run, as everyone is telling me. but man there is just so much shit, so much shit that i am absolutely unable to do anything about any of it at all.

someone has injected crazy into my blood. after many years i am feeling crazy. but there has been no room to enjoy this crazy, to realize it wonderfully as crazy is meant to be. why oh my god. why is it taking so long to settle.

what an absolutely odd summer.

- birdie