Kryptonite

How can 2 people so right for each other in every way, be so God-awful for one another? Fucking each other at every turn. What is this need for pain, I feel? Endlessly torturing one another, until we are both broken and abused. Until we are unrecognizable. There is a depraved beauty in it all though. A supercilious sense of smugness. "At least we're not those assholes." It's hard to find a person you can scoff at humanity with. Someone with an unspoken bond, someone you can just shoot a knowing glance at, and both start laughing. One that can see right through you, call you on your bullshit, never letting you off the hook, even once. Resentment is easy, actually. It dulls the senses, so you can convince yourself to tune out. It lets you sleep-walk for a while. But once complacency relents for a moment, fire burns ceaselessly and eventually overtakes. The aroma can be so sweet and flowery, but most often it takes on the putrid stench of a sulphuric tire blaze. Does indifference only set in because of exhaustion? How much can a human being take before they just can't lift their head anymore? But as the complacency builds I start to yearn for that emotional pendulum that only comes from those rare connections. I want to feel something, anything, constantly grasping at any little piece of sentiment that may make its way under my nose. It is a dangerous thing to know another being's exact pressure points; they are almost exclusively used for malevolent ends. Sado-masochism seems entirely too natural for me. People don't wish to see the real me, I leave it out there for them to discover, but no one ever does. Are people that nihilistic or are they just that dense? Only one person has ever seen the real me, or at least 96%. A girl has to keep a little stash for herself. The fact that someone has known who I am at the very core, and loved it, gives me a macabre and self-deluding optimism that one really shouldn't have. Knowing of the genuine possibilities, means never having to settle. But it also leads to an extreme dissatisfaction with the rest of humanity. I often say I am the sinner and he the saint, but living with a saint creates a languor that is near impossible to recover from. You can only spend so much time feeling shitty and inadequate because you know you can never be as selfless or good. Sometimes, I think rebelling is all I know. It's the only thing that has ever worked to dispel my invasive and debilitating thoughts. It is a natural high, it ramps up an euphoric set of neurotransmitters, the ones that let me skate through, while still being fully able to rationalize and feel, and function. It is a buzz that can last for days, weeks, or months, however long I can sustain it. Until the pendulum strikes the other way.

Dastardly deeds are all that is begot out of love. Why does the dissolution of things have to be so gut-wrenching? But love is worth it every time. Sometimes, 2 people can exist on a higher plane, in a world where only the intangible exists. If you are lucky enough to ever rise above to that ethereal state, hold on to it as long as you humanly can. The comedown is inevitable with drugs, but that is the junkie's curse, trying to stay lit, despite knowing the truth. It's all a self-delusion, manufactured to numb or dull, to heighten or deepen, depending on the state of consciousness (or unconsciousness in most cases), desired. To feel is to experience every range of emotion, to numb is to feel nothing at all. I will never understand those who choose to numb. Now that is a waste. That is nihilistic. People who just want that mediocre because they think anything else is melodramatic. Life isn't really worth it without some sort of novel experience. A life just filled with a series of mundane and perfunctory activities is far more tragic than one filled with sadness, punctuated with an intense, appreciated joy. People barely even breathing their beige existences, thinking they have it all figured out. As taxing as it is to be the way I am, I could never want to be in the dark like that. I am no troglodyte. Without emotionality, what really does set us apart from any other species? Maybe it is just pretentious to think that there are any differences at all. We are animals at heart, just a little more self-aware. Animals get to behave primally without all that guilt that we, as humans, put on ourselves. So, who really is the higher-order species then? If for all our "intelligence" and brain density and speech capabilities, we still can't really accomplish anything or find peace, then how can we think of ourselves as better?

On another note, for some reason I have always had an aversion to Canada. Don't ask me why, because I couldn't tell you. There has just always been something that has bugged me about that entire country. No one is that nice. It's not in humans nature to be that altruistic. It always seems like they are hiding something. But in some weird twist, as in a premonition realized or some blatant self-fulfilling prophecy, I have good reason to thumb my nose up at our Northern neighbor. I say to you Canada, have some self-respect, you desperate little whore. Don't let men walk all over you like that. You must be emotionally barren to let someone talk to you like that. An entire nation full of repressed, cock-hungry sluts with daddy issues. Find your panties and get a hold of yourself.

Personal Realization: I admit, this is probably the most fucked essay I have ever written. But it's better than being a diffident a-hole, too busy nervously looking around to enjoy themselves for even a minute.