Sunday, 15 July 2007

Flypaper

I never really thought about that flypaper. It was there, full of dead flies, a few passing away, some seemed to shiver, some endured their faith with honour. And I did look at it, sometimes for more than a minute, but this creepy vision never reached my real inner mind. Why don't we use lemon plant? We'll buy a lemon plant to keep them away, and this action will send ripples all across the world.

We are changing our behaviour, but never ever sweeping under the carpet our first attempt to kill the flies with torture. I sit in the garden ripping the grass, thinking obscure thoughts, body and mind as one. I wanna kill it, and kill myself. I wanna destroy. 13th day without cigarettes. I read Quantum Psychology for the 10th time wondering if I ever gonna really apply it fully.

I'll let the grass grow, the flies fly away, and use flypaper with him, to see if he will endure it, or shiver and cry. He talks about himself all the time, and I listen, truly interested in everything he says. I love his ideas. I tell him about my own things and his mind slips away, entangled in his own foolishness. Why have I fallen in love so deeply? He's so selfish.

I called him yesterday and said something really stupid that will keep him away for a long time, I hope. It has to be this way, like an old band-aid. You have to pull it quick otherwise you'll feel every hair being pulled out. Oh, God, it hurts.

I used to pull band-aids slowly, haha. But now I know the trick. I am that selfish cunt. I will wake up every morning thinking about him until the day I truly understand I'm outrageously selfish too. Selfish and fickle.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

well, i was thinking i could re-direct my every ejaculation into a refrigerated pool to keep the sperms swimming around alive and well, out of respect for posterity, or for some how-it-used-to-be tastings with a hint of lemon to domesticate the salty taste.

just a thought.

twit said...

I very enjoyable, wistful piece of prose.
Proper bloggin' that, lass.

Indigobusiness said...

Like broken glass with a soft underbelly, or the difference between faith and fate:
painfully compelling.

Carlos Carah said...

oi Paula. tudo bem ai? quando vc vem pra cá?
eu e a Renata fizemos uma viagem gigantesca. foi loco. estamos na moral. aqui tá mó friaca.

espero que esteja tudo bem.

bj

Anonymous said...

9 'ish' = around 9

self 'ish' = ?

it's no ordinary love x