This is about the urge to belong, the urge to have means to talk about what I might be feeling.
This is about the emotional breakdown I had a couple days ago, when all I could think was I wasn't able to fall in love anymore.
My friends were asleep, I was drunk and upset, cause I knew all the reasons, all the answers, all the questions, but I couldn't stop feeling something inside of me was broke into little, pitiful pieces. And all I could hear was the mourning cry of my old self, trying to figure out what to do. I thought I was too impaired to care about another being, to look after him/her, to find myself letting my heart race and do nothing but to long after things I don't know for sure, not again, not ever. The ideia of a connection seemed so far away from me, a tired idea, a dead possibility. All I could do was mourn, mourn about this death, mourn about the things I wouldn't be able to do anymore, without this kind of connection, without the lost possibility of it.
But then I felt this slightly change in the wind, a primitive call, something emerged from inside the very nature of chaos. A bliding flare, a delicate touch, a soft hand in my face, gliding it's fingers through my lips, making me close my eyes, embracing my waist, heating my chest. A clever move of language, a blind rapport, eyes who see me in the same level, a tricky game, a mazelike grip, a lure to my eagerness. My body and mind being allured by the possibility of being more than just a person, beign a lush beast, savage, untamed, lascivious, grotesque, bigger than life itself, bigger than the distant possibility of control.
The raw nature of the beautiful chimera, looking into my eyes and asking for permission, asking for my hands, my heart, my tired soul, promissing me an endless road to race, a bonfire to burn myself and a place to rest my doubts.
It sounds like a pulse towards destruction, towards a pile of chewed bones, a run towards the possibility of a new way to bury the sane part of me, and to scream nobody really owns my essence. A new possibility to screw everything up and take resposibility for other's persons hearts just because I'm bored and I want to know if I can do it.
Am I horny for the broken ideas? Do I crave for the trouble of being attached to a monstruous and fragile thing like this? A thing bigger than me, something I couldn't tame, sounding almost like a challenge, telling me all the things I could have, but showing me nothing about the price I'll have to pay for being devoured by such creature.
Am I digging holes in other's chests just for fun? Do I think this is some kind of universe's funny joke? A story to tell, a deep narrative that helps me sell how wild I am?
