Wednesday 2/01/2006 10:34:00 PM

I laid on my back staring up at the idle ceiling fan. Barely blinking. The music was loud and obnoxious. Dissident. To match my mood. The room was dark except for the tv and it cast a dancing shadow monster on the white paint. A giant, five-legged spider hopping as the images on the screen changed.

I was listening to the music. Really listening to it. Letting it fill my head. Push out every other thought. Except the giant, five-legged spider. I couldn't take my eyes off it. Had to keep reminding myself to blink.

The music is the key. It can take me over. Possess me. Like nothing else can. A damp cloth to my mind's cluttered chalkboard.

A lot of people get that feeling from good sex. Or good love. I still think then. There's always room for thinking. Except during moments of orgasm. But they pass so quickly. And come too slow. And love, well, is just a euphemism for codependency. I did that for a while. It didn't suit me.

Nothing suits me. Not myself. Nor anyone else. Certainly not addiction. But still I want all of them. I don't want to let go. Because love might not be as grandiose as we like to believe, but it is quite real. A fiber in every atom of our being. There is no escaping the want. And no choosing what we will love. It always. Always chooses us.

The music opens one lock. But there are so many more five-legged spiders I can't bring myself to upon.


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