Been up to a lot this year; talked long with an ex(es), family tragedy and fell for someone. Now it’s July, and all that’s faded. Now I’m left listening to Conor Oberst’s Ruminations. Knowing if I’d of stayed responding to her messages I’d of burnt out. Now maybe loneliness is my worst nightmare. Maybe in the coming weeks I’ll deeply regret leaving her. Though through it all, I’ll ultimately know that Paul Simon was right there is 50 ways to leave your lover. You know the irony I didn’t use one of those 50 reasons. Old Paul didn’t fail me, I just realised life isn’t always like the movies. The grandiose spiel of ‘Its not you, it’s me’ to her would be bullshit. Hurting her until she left me alone isn’t my style and it’s horrible, simply telling her ‘I don’t like you anymore’ just wasn’t acceptable, because it’s wrong.
With her gone, my life is a hell of a lot less hectic. Yet she was a piece of my life, I didn’t know if I’d ever lose. Now it’s gone. There’s a hole. I have to crank up the music on my headphones whenever thoughts of her enter. Because I know going back will only end with me broken and tortured, and that’s an experience I have never wanted to go through again.
Frankly when I started this blog, I had no aspirations, I just thought let’s see what happens and I was bored as well. I’m two years into this now. As of 2pm est time there’s 28 views on my blog for today, from America. Maybe they care, maybe they don’t. I digress now two years later I still have no aspirations with this blog, it’s hidden deep in the throes of the WordPress reader most probably. Likes here and there, follows from time to time. I probably find a catharsis in these posts. Feelings poured out. The people that really matter, don’t really read this stuff. Mostly for the better. She read a couple of my poems and gave them acclaim, that’s about it. For me the blog has been effortless, I haven’t wanted to advertise or self-promote. I loathe it. I see little accomplishment through that. I just like the sound of the WordPress notifications going off really. Read, like, don’t read, don’t like. Either way my world turns. I just feel a little warmer inside knowing at least someone likes something I’ve done. If they didn’t, I don’t think that would be enough to stop me. Of course the acceptance emails are cute as well. The meaning to this? The explanation for why these words chosen? Why this post posted? I don’t have it, I’ve never had any of it for this blog. This blog is me. Every post is just a drip from my soul (yeah I think we have one of those now). We’ll most likely never meet dear reader. Maybe you’ve seen the same porno as the next viewer. Maybe you’re their coworker, maybe you’ve slept with the same woman. You’ll never know, isn’t that wonderful? This whole world, colliding inwards and you’ll never know who is really out there. You’ll just masturbate, maybe fall in love, maybe do a term in prison and that’s life. That’s the world in itself. Devoid of promise.
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Currently holed up in a very small Floridian villa, alone; my computer, blackberry and iPhone my only accompaniment, very little internet, and side of an empty double bed is haunting, a book of Leonard Cohen’s poetry lays atop it, and I fancy eating at panera bread later. to list few. Why the diatribe? No answer, truly.
Ben Brizell 