You are viewing ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.1){kind=small}
chifreak's journal
You are viewing chifreak's journal
|
|||||||
 |
|
|
|||||
|
chifreak's Journal  THE JOKER People talk about me, baby Say I'm doin' you wrong, doin' you wrong Well don't you worry baby, don't worry 'Cause I"m right here, right here, right here, right here at home I'm just a regular guy; I'm a killer, I'm a care taker, I'm a role model- Dad made sure of that. I think he was just trying to save Sammy, that's what it was all about from the beginning. 'Cause I'm a picker, I'm a grinner, I'm a lover, and I'm a sinner I play my music in the sun What I am is the worst thing to be- I'm a survivor. I should have been dead the first time when I was five years old, running out of a burning house with my baby brother in my arms, and at least a dozen different times after that, I stopped counting. I'm a joker, I'm a smoker, I'm a midnight toker I get my lovin' on the run Being a survivor means being cursed to fail again and again, to watch everyone die, to suffer endlessly for mistakes that should have left me to rot in peace. And Sam- he's there to witness it all, to prove to me again and again that no matter what I do, no matter how many supernatural scum bugs I stomp out, it's never going to be enough, there will always be more. You're the cutest thing I ever did see, really love your peaches wanna shake your tree So times like right now when he's asleep, slumped over with his head on my shoulder in the Impala on a dark two-lane, looking so good, like peace and perfection and innocence and safety and all that heaven stuff, just glowing with it, right here almost in my lap in the dark. I work an arm around his shoulder and pull him close against me, and I've got home in my two hands- Sam and the Impala. And it's so good, but it's cruel, they have me by the balls, they really do, because I love his life, I love his life so much more than I do my own and I know I will keep clawing my way back from death to try to save him, no matter what it takes, no matter what it costs. To have even one more chance to drive like this, holding his body tight against me and feeling him breathing, to put my foot to the floor and hear her purr back at me and put us 200 miles away from the bad in the rear view mirror, I will go on, and on and on and on as long as I can. Not because I promised Dad, not because he's worth it- he isn't, always. I do it because I need to be able to believe in something, and the good in Sam has been the only proof of good existing on this planet that I've ever seen in my whole life that hasn't turned out to be a lie. Sammy isn't just my faith, he's my redemption. THE JOKER People talk about me, baby Say I'm doin' you wrong, doin' you wrong Well don't you worry baby, don't worry 'Cause I"m right here, right here, right here, right here at home I'm just a regular guy; I'm a killer, I'm a care taker, I'm a role model- Dad made sure of that. I think he was just trying to save Sammy, that's what it was all about from the beginning. 'Cause I'm a picker, I'm a grinner, I'm a lover, and I'm a sinner I play my music in the sun What I am is the worst thing to be- I'm a survivor. I should have been dead the first time when I was five years old, running out of a burning house with my baby brother in my arms, and at least a dozen different times after that, I stopped counting. I'm a joker, I'm a smoker, I'm a midnight toker I get my lovin' on the run Being a survivor means being cursed to fail again and again, to watch everyone die, to suffer endlessly for mistakes that should have left me to rot in peace. And Sam- he's there to witness it all, to prove to me again and again that no matter what I do, no matter how many supernatural scum bugs I stomp out, it's never going to be enough, there will always be more. You're the cutest thing I ever did see, really love your peaches wanna shake your tree So times like right now when he's asleep, slumped over with his head on my shoulder in the Impala on a dark two-lane, looking so good, like peace and perfection and innocence and safety and all that heaven stuff, just glowing with it, right here almost in my lap in the dark. I work an arm around his shoulder and pull him close against me, and I've got home in my two hands- Sam and the Impala. And it's so good, but it's cruel, they have me by the balls, they really do, because I love his life, I love his life so much more than I do my own and I know I will keep clawing my way back from death to try to save him, no matter what it takes, no matter what it costs. To have even one more chance to drive like this, holding his body tight against me and feeling him breathing, to put my foot to the floor and hear her purr back at me and put us 200 miles away from the bad in the rear view mirror, I will go on, and on and on and on as long as I can. Not because I promised Dad, not because he's worth it- he isn't, always. I do it because I need to be able to believe in something, and the good in Sam has been the only proof of good existing on this planet that I've ever seen in my whole life that hasn't turned out to be a lie. Sammy isn't just my faith, he's my redemption. ( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. ) DIRTY LOVE I want to taste some dirty love Don't want to waste your dirty love Whatever you got, you bet your life I want the lot I want to grab your dirty love 70 miles to the best western in Lincoln. I don't think I'm gonna make it. I think i'm gonna pull off at the next rest stop and blow him in the car. Fucking cherub face six foot two of hot sprawled out all over my seat and halfway into my lap. He fell asleep two songs after the last gas stop with his head on my shoulder and his hand on my crotch. Little bastard. No, I gotta wait till we get to the motel, I gotta rip all those layers of clothes off and get him naked. I'm gonna start at his ears and lick my way down. No, maybe I'll start with his toes and suck my way up. Either way I'm gonna blow him to kingdom come. No, wait, I wanna push him down on his stomach and bite my way down his backbone, that drives him nuts. Then I can talk dirty right in his ear and feel him shaking underneath me. I can tell him how he drives me outta my mind when he falls asleep like this in the car all sprawled out all over me and breathing soft and even and the pulse in his throat and the way he smiles in his sleep. Oh god I'm gonna crash the car. No, no, I'm not, eyes on the road, we'll be there soon, just wait a little longer and then you can have it all. ( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. ) Never allow fear to make your decisions for you. I've neglected this journal for over four months now. I stopped writing because i was afraid of who might be reading it, that it would get me into trouble i didn't need. Yes, i could have worried about that in the first place, but until recently i didn't care, took enough pride in the life i was living that it didn't matter to me what bullshit might come back from the truth i typed. Then Dwayne walked into the tattoo shop, and in a matter of days, my world changed. I wanted despretly to have a chance, to be free, to live a different life. I changed, my life changed, I fell in love with Dwayne and made the decisions and choices necessary to be his mate. I stopped fucking around, i stopped messing with Bob, i gave up on a lot of things i had previously devoted my existence to, like submission, the act of being there, throwing myself out into the street for the sake of the night itself, and anyone who might need me. That's the simple version, the truth of it, the truth of the bones and the blood, is a lot more complicated, of course. For my own sake, i'll try to summerize... At some point shortly before I met Dwayne, I began to realize that Submission wasn't inside inside me in the way that it had always been, that it was a conscious and laborious choice to bring myself down to that state, that it required drugs to do so, that killing off pieces of myself was no longer a natural state, that sacrifice for it's own sake wasn't a spiritual act of enlightenment, it was just a habit, a place to hide. Going to California and spending time with Melissa confirmed that for me in a way that nothing else could, and i'm grateful to her for that. i feel that i may have acted dishonorably towards her and our relationship, but when something that powerful dies, what are you supposed to do with it? So I've stayed above ground, survived four months without submission, without pain, without the self affirmation I get from the curious combination of humiliation and pride that is being that slut for them, for all of my world. There are many ways to get strong, many ways to empower yourself for survival, sex was the only one I thought I had any right to claim, but I think differently now. For the first time in fifteen years, having sex really is an act of love, and i share more than my body with him. For the first time, I can see myself as more than the sum of what I have to offer, I can see myself outside the context of submission and sacrifice. For the first time in my life, i believe the debt has been paid. He doesn't see any of that in me, and strangely, that makes me happy. It doesn't bother me that he has no real understanding or appreciation of the sacred whore, my aspect, the God Jezebel or her power. He sees me in the present, only, who I am with him and living this new idea of individual life, for it's own sake. I can't say that he doesn't have a natural ammount of male fear, jealousy and contempt for my past, but he accepts it in a way that to me, makes up for any lack of understanding. There is no guilt, there is no hatred, he simply accepts who I've been, and accepts responsibility for loving me, and what that brings him. He is the strongest and most honorable person I've ever met, of course I fell in love with him. I've said many times that we deserve each other, and it's so true. We have so much to learn from each other and to give each other, and some of it is intensely painful, but always worth it. i know that we have both grown a great deal and stepped outside our boxes in order to love each other, and I find so much that is worthwhile in the process. //Maybe, if i make it home tonight, not to get torn apart or caught up in a fist fight// Another week, another skinhead. This is a very dangerous game i'm playing. i'm not sure how that's all gonna go, eventually i'm going to have to face the music. Friday, actually, the day after tomorrow. Nervous, because i know that i'm not playing by their rules, that it could get ugly, but not ashamed enough to stay home. Not ashamed at all. i like Dwayne, and it costs me nothing to welcome him home to us. Or, it shouldn't. As long as the rest of the boys can be reasonable. i'm not used to playing these sexual politics games, i just do what i do and don't care, take pride in any shit that gets talked about me, but this is a little bit different, not something i can predict or control. i tell myself it's not worth worrying about, whatever, i'll flow with it. i'm smart enough not to go to jail, even if he's not, or at least, i should be, by this time, and anything less than that is just people yapping their mouths. Taking a risk like this, right before Melissa gets here, it seems really stupid and i have to ask myself why the fuck i'm doing this- any of them, why i'm going to the show when i *know* there's going to be massive amounts of bullshit, that i may or may not be directly involved in. it's not something i really *want* to do, i don't care about any of it, i don't even like the band. If i had any sense i'd stay home. Maybe, maybe i will... Because it just occured to me that this is probably just that insidious, mysterious self destructive bloodflow that moves me when i'm not looking. Sneaky, it is, the way it distracts with drugs and hunger, only to fuck me up with sex instead Dum Dum girl. This punk rock public utility fucking i do- it's a stupid habit. Waste of my time. Not much self respect this morning, but i'll drag my ass to work and maybe talk Zen into going to the fireside, inspite of the fact that her car's not running. Not likely, but it would probably do me a world of good to go to a show tonight. Reaffirmation. That need to look around and see my world for what it is, not what i want it to be, and understand that i'm going to grow old and die here. i have a headache that i blame on the Skinhead, and my back hurts, from pushing Zen's car two blocks and i'm feeling awfully loose and disconnected to be going to work- like if i get on an L train i might not get off. i could spend a day on the train, that would be nice. Sure as hell don't want to look at food and old people and crying babies. Ick. No, a hardcore show at fireside tonight won't fix me, but it might help me realign my perspective Monday a.m. Montrose bus to Damen, i'm Down, i'm wondering how you will want me today; alive or dead? i had to dig deep this morning to find a reason to exist. i had to put on the leather gauntlet you gave me, and my old brass lock and chain on my right wrist, Melissa's collar and Carrie Ann's silver. i was fiending so bad and it hurt and i couldn't breath, so i swallowed a little liquid codeiene and six advil, put my blue lipstick on, pulled on my leather and made a cage to crawl into. It was the only way to get here, but now i'm so dead, so far down, slave inside, owe blood debt for every breath and i pray to god that you will take it from me, that fate will be kind and give us time and that you will need me. Otherwise, i'll be wrecked, fucked and useless. Did i really need to give you that much power just to live through Monday morning? Another day to understand how right Sidney was. He knew. i don't belong here. Damen bus to North Avenue. i don't have any money and i don't have any time. What we can achieve with nothing but survival and electricity is anybody's guess. i'm ready, i'm doing my best impersonation of black white canvas. The sky is dark grey and it's getting colder, it will rain or sleet or snow this afternoon. Roscoe, Henderson, School, street names echo in my head, hypnotic. Belmont, two miles to go. Finally, finally, i can feel the physical anticipation of seeing you uncurling in my belly, in my cunt. Diversy, look east, half the skyscrapers are hiding in the clouds, Sears stands up big and mean and full of money. Over the river and through the 'jects, i'm so grateful that my blood knows what to do with drugs, how to make nothing with whatever i can find to feed it. i'm all alone on the bus, love that. Somewhere close something industrial is burning. i love the smell of chicago fires. Dickens, Armitage....almost, almost. Going to make it to you by the skin of my teeth, take off all my clothes and beg you to hurt me. Sitting quiet in the church pew, you sit beside me comfortably, i can tell you don't mind the customer you're talking to assumes i'm your Moll. Shopgirl, such an easy role. You never tie me up You tie me Down Bind my brain to my intestines to my cunt Hold me still, still, not motionless incapacitated, never helpless i don't need help to fall for you Submission comes naturally my body knows what to do with pain and electricity Damen bus, going home... You fixed me. You didn't even tattoo me, didn't even hurt me, and you fixed me, i'm so high and so happy. My throat is burning from stabbing you into me as deep as i could, devouring you, sucked you dry. And you did that thing that is us being affectionate, standing up with our jeans pushed down, rubbing your cock against my wet pussy, and our foreheads pressed together hard, nuzzling and panting in each other's faces. You fucked my ass, hurt me deep, deep inside where i needed to feel something, to be torn open for you. Bent me over standing in my boots and i held my ankles, imagining chains to bind my ankles to wrists. Budweiser is an acceptable lubricant, and i love the way i smell, sitting on the bus wet in my stockings, my mouth alive with the taste of you. When you fix me, it's like banging concrete, it's like swallowing the end of the world, i feel that we are gods in the act of creation feel myself both beautiful and holy. i feel the edges of my reality flex and bend, curl and twist and buckle with my body, disintegrate all but the essence of me, this is Love Over Will. You smell sweet like fruit and earthy like beer, clean like the latex gloves you have on your hands all day. your taste satisfies me more than anything else i've ever put in my mouth. i was so empty, nothing but you inside me, Bobby Sox bones. i could stay awake for days on this, i feel like i'll never need to eat food again, like i could disappear and re-materialize if i wanted to. FREE i don't want to go home yet but it's cold and raining and i only have one dollar in my pocket, not even enough for bussfare. So i'll go home and maybe i'll sit on my bed and drink beer until i'm drunk and keep the feeling of you inside me all afternoon. Walk in my door, turn the music on loud, don't bother to take off my leather or my boots. Pull my pants down and make myself come standing in the kitchen and it hurts, it hurts so much, because i'm in love with you Monday morning, i'm on my second cup of coffee. On edge, not right. This is the day i'm good, i'm inside myself, i'm real. i'm none of that. In three hours, you will hurt me, and i don't know if i'll feel it or not. i want to see you, i need to see you, but i don't feel good about it, i'm not happy and dreamy and ready to fall, i'm just sitting here drinking coffee and smoking and watching the clock until i have to get in the shower, like i do every morning. Maybe because last week our time wasn't good, or because i don't have any pot, always stressful for body and mind, and i don't have anything to bring to you. i hate to come to you empty handed, feeling poor. i can't even afford to bring you cigarettes and water. It's almost two years, two years, two fucking years...what are we doing? i should stop. i should stop messing with you, let you live your life and i've had this feeling for months, but i still can't fathom or face the idea of waking up monday morning and not bringing myself to you. For whatever you want, for whatever it's worth that day, i need to be there. i need to resolve this conflict, before it poisons us. Praying you can fix me, and trying not let addiction win. |
|||||||
|
|
|
|||||
