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 2000-01-27 | 00:10:50

» to A. Tarkovsky

Think darkly. Think dark, angry and brutish thoughts. Think the words "God Damn." Imagine the smoldering rage of Achilles.

What does he think? What does the guy who's fucking my wife think? The guy whose cells are combining and dividing with hers. The guy whose DNA is mingling with hers to produce a new and unique person who should have half been mine. Fuck all. What does he think when he sees a photo of her from when she was 18, 19, 20...So lithe and young and heart-achingly beautiful. Does he understand that I made those photos? That he is seeing her through MY double-damned eyes?

She said, "I think you would like him," and I broke two fingers on every hand of every person on the planet. I naively offered my life to her but she wanted her own life. Incompatable at the most basic level, no matter how many things we had in common. So fuck all again.

Romantic versus Classical.

Tarkovsky. Andrei Tarkovsky, my main man. Show me your style. Teach me from the grave, dear sir. I'm one step closer to beginning my life. I know now not to wait for life to start because it's almost over every day that I breath air.


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