8:47 p.m. - 2003-07-12
i need the rain to feel...
down the highway and a hard rain falling, heavy and fast and a thousand points on my bare shoulders. leaning in, i hold him closer, keeping two halves dry between us and the warmth of his arm against my thigh is a singular contrast to a world sliding away.
like a brother i haven't met, a memory made flesh and an immediate sense of touch and longing. sensory intrusion in the most insidious way - he is already under my skin. am i forever creating worlds that i can never live in? maybe i need to ask how long the idealistic sheen will last, and what hides underneath - another false front?
the next few weeks i disappear into work again, as much a voluntary screen to hide behind as a valid excuse. I want to see him again, and i'm afraid of what i'll see.
i'm looking for the kind of love shirley manson sings about in garbage songs. obsessive and haunting and absolutely mental.
the poignant and depressing dreams of portishead, the nihilistic desire of trent reznor.
damn.
i feel like i'm 18 again.
this has to end soon.
i want it to last forever.
