6

My mother's had a cough for 14 months. Her face contorts and she hacks her throat out. Her body tenses to a point, she arches her neck forward, and her lips curl under body pressure. Her shoulders rise and sharp bursts of tainted air erupt from her mouth like dragon fire. My life has no direction. My most engaging endeavor is watching my mother fall apart, emotionally and physically. I am a soulless vagabond. I am still lusting after my ex-girlfriend. She is currently a drunk, in and out of rehab, and more generally... she is a hopeless sensation fiend. She has many negative qualities tucked away... but her most prominent characteristics happen to be very desirable charms; she is playful and she is classically beautiful. She is the type of female that has been grabbing sexual attention since she was 12. Not that she looks like a harlot, she rarely ever dresses like a slut, nothing like that, it is just that she has a slender toned body and an amazing face. She looked great in every situation. I have some wonderful frozen frame memories of sexual moments with her. A few in particular come to mind: spreading her ass cheeks to look at her asshole. Pinning her legs up, looking back and forth from the sweat beading on her tits to my dick penetrating her pussy. I remember looking at her neck while she would nibble my ear. The extreme close quarters of intimacy. The smell on her neck, sort of like her hair... also like her hands. It cheapens those moments... thinking of it like this... but its already gone. What's the difference... a reflection on my character perhaps. I haven’t moved on. She's still in my thoughts.

I have only spoken to two people, in person, in the last three weeks; my mother and her brooding male friend. Her brooding friend is an interesting study. He is a man that cannot control his anger, and he is miserable beyond reconciliation. He is abusive to every person that he is familiar with... and the notion he holds of himself far surpasses his talents. He is talented… he is a good singer and a generally intelligent person… but he has bolstered his internal image quite a bit. If you are familiar with terms that stem from existentialism then you will be helped by my description of this man as an absurd hero… or the absurd hero. He constantly harps on the fact that life is weighed down by the burden of maintenance. He delivers speeches condemning lawn mowing, condemning the laundering of clothes, praising David Mamet, praising Astor Piazolla, condemning people that lack culture, praising the last woman he had an affair with… these speeches vary somewhat but whenever he speaks passionately he comes back to the same basic points and the same key words.

i should clarify by saying that this man is not the absurd hero in the classical existential sense but he fills an almost identical role within the current cultural framework. he shares some traits with the classical existential figure because he recognizing the futility and presses on with his baseline functioning in spite of his recognition.

classless. degenerate. he and I.

is and am