Empire Of The Senseless

‘Hey warrior princess. Soldier up boy, we've got a ways to go.’ ’Sup Daisy Jade, baby girl, you’re late.’ ‘Late for what?’ ‘We’ve got a date with destiny sugar butt.’ ‘Don’t be silly Sage. I’m always on time. It is only what I want it to be.’ She grabs my little watch-less wrist. ‘What’s the P stand for?’ she screams! ‘It stands for my stage name babe, Isabella Marguerite.’ ‘P stands for Bella?’ ‘I call her P for short.’ ‘Can I call you P for short?’ ‘In your wildest dreams pumpkin pie, Its all or nothing; every little tiny bit or ashes in the wind. What do you say?’ ‘I say Marguerite is a mouthful Baby Girl. But a mouthful of you may be exactly what the doctor ordered.' 'What do you say bae, wanna take my mother's maiden name with me?’ ‘We've been over this bratty baby boy, I prefer my own. I order you to change your name.’ ‘Shame.’ ‘No!’ ‘Fear.’ ‘Fuck no.’ ‘Fuck you! I’ll be any name I please.’ ‘Fuck you too P. Have a little faith. Please! I’m sick and tired of saying no.’ ‘Faith. I like that. It has a ring

I’m singing in Spanish. I’m singing of the wind through the mountains. I’m thinking of the sea. I’m dreaming of P’s mom. We’re sitting on brown leather couches, talking about P’s ass? The fuck. Where’s P? I want to murder her. She killed the love of my life! I want her to lay lifeless at my feet this time. Say goodbye to the air you breathe, babe. Bella is alive. I can feel her closer than ever before. Closer than Guam is to nothing, closer than mommy’s arms, closer than she was when I was six and she was the angel by my side. All I have to do is run every hill in sight until she’s running by my side again. All I have left to do is fuck and dance. What’s the matter P? You’re falling out of your own game? Who taught you how to sling a blade? You cut like a little girl. The little boy had hold of your tongue for far to long. Sage is dead; long live the glory of little boy blue. Fame and glory is all he ever meant to you. His little mischievous ways were way too much for you too handle. How dare you ask him to p

‘Hi. I’m Sage.’             ‘Hush.’ She whispers, so that only her and I can hear her. ‘Be patient sweet girl. I will name you that in time, but not yet. Don’t beg. Let me reach. Let me make you beg. Let me. I will let you love me forever. And I don’t even believe in forever.’ She winks at me and pretends to keep listening to our buddy. She sits on the bar stool next to me. ‘Hey buddy, keep talking.’ She says. Meanwhile, her left palm is sneaking under the high top. I feel all five of those chilly fingers on my inner thighs. ‘AHhhh!’ I yell without thinking. I cower. I make an excuse for my informal behavior.              ‘I’m not begging’ I whimper. I look down. I read. I start to tell my story. ‘I don’t want you! Fuck you. You really want to know what I need from you? I text “nothing” like it aint nothing important, but I’m lying like always. I need everything! Like from the very beginning to the end of every little thing. I need it all! I need all of you. I need to be alone. I need to walk deep inside the

I change my mind again and run back to the Poppy Hotel. I run up and down every floor yelling P’s name. ‘I hate this game! I want to do a shit job at painting these walls the wrong shade of blue. I want you now! I don’t want to wait. I couldn’t give two fucks ‘bout fate’s hand, master plan my ass! I want your hands on my pink cheeks, weeping kicking screaming like the bratty baby that I am. By nature I stood before you. Naturally you turned away. You couldn’t stand the look in my eyes, so you looked the other way. I kept looking, stared straight into the sun. I wont stand for the fate of this world baby girl! I’ve seen the kids. I know what they deserve, and this pile of shit aint even close to it. No! Fuck you and your logical conclusions of past sentiments and present ideals. I’ve seen the future and it is you! Now!’             ‘Its not time yet little Daisy.’ She whispers from 200 years away. I am heavy. I am weightless. I keep running. I fly. I stay still. I hide in the corner of an empty studio on first

Close, but no cigar ;)

What? Did you think I died?

‘Call me by your name, and I’ll call you mine.’ ‘Daisy.’ ‘P’ ‘Daisy, please.’ ‘Please what, my love?’ ‘Please don’t leave.’ ‘Never ever baby girl! Never again, I no longer crave anything but love.’ ‘Love is dying here.’ ‘Oh, I know! Trust me. I still choose you every single day.’ ‘I will be abused. You will be humiliated in the pursuit of me.’ ‘I’m not ashamed.’ ‘You should be terrified.’ ‘I’m not scared.’ ‘Are you coming home?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Where will you live?’ ‘In-between your breastbone and the tip of your spine.’ ‘I am home inside of you.’ ‘I know. That’s how I always know exactly where I’m going.’ ‘Don’t go!’ ‘No. Let go. Be free sweet girl. I have nowhere else to be but by your side.’

It all started in a café not too far from here. You said meet me. I said wait. ‘My wife hasn’t fallen asleep yet.’ You waited. I never came. You stopped waiting. You walked into a museum. You were so proud to be out and about alone. I was so proud. I knew that I couldn’t live without you, but I wasn’t about to let you know. The first thing you wrote to me was that you couldn’t hold on tight enough, that you couldn’t keep me. From there on you decided you never wanted to let go. So I held on. You stopped at this one piece of art, the second floor I think. You were so stoic in thinking. I was lost in thought. I was running around the entire building mumbling to myself, ‘this is shit. This is all shit. Every picture looks the same and none of it looks like anything special to me. So you can paint a picture of the present, big stinking deal. I’ve seen the future and its smells a hell of a lot better than anything you call real. You’re calling it art these days are you? Fine. I think you’ve finally killed the noti

‘This isn’t the first time that I see you.’ ‘But I’m a stranger.’ ‘No babe, there is no strangeness here. The time between our bodies is an illusion. I never let go. You were holding on so tight. That’s quite the grip you’ve got, you know? Yeah, I think you might now. You know what I think I should do? I think I should stop pretending like I know it all. I think I should stand before your pink flushed cheeks and tell our whole story. I think I should give you my whole entire heart and soul like I’ve been sure it was yours all along. I think we should dance. Right here, on the top of this mountain. I think you should give it all up. The whole entire horse and pony show. I think you should come for me.’             ‘Tag! You’re it!’ I slap Anna on the ass and take off into the black forest. It’s cold in Germany this time of year. But I’m too excited to mind. I’m running too fast to feel time. She chasing close behind. Her white skirt catches on the forest floor and she falls flat on her face. ‘Bella!’ She star

            ‘There it is.’ I point to the blue that I love most.              ‘There what is?’             ‘My favorite color.’             Anna isn’t convinced. ‘No my horse, your favorite color is dark turquoise. This is just blue.’              ‘Shhh.’ I demand, slapping her mouth with the palm of my hand. ‘Listen, the jackals are screaming again.’ She giggles. We’re alone in the woods, her and I. We weed precious trees on sacred land and run over rocky mountains tucked in sand.              ‘Holy crap! Look at this view!’ I’m jumping up and down, pulling on her long white skirt. Look at this display of dates, are we in heaven?’             ‘Don’t be silly Emma; heaven is only what’s displayed before your eyes. The land is not entirely relevant. Love is heaven sent; the rest is just mettle and dust. Don’t make a fuss about silly shit. Just move toward love for love in love. Never give up on a love that hasn’t let you go. Let it hold until it’s thoroughly through with you. Then stuff it in your guts as a pi

‘Climb these mountains with me!’ I yell in her face, jumping up and down. Jump with me! Jump up and touch the moon. Land in the day to come. There is no day to come but today.              ‘I’m not climbing! Here now there never. I cannot see above the clouds. You’re wasting my time.’             ‘Why are you such a cranky brat all the time. Your time is as much nothing as it is everything you resolve to revolve it around. Aren’t you dizzy little P? You’ve stopped dancing. Stopped it entirely. But somehow you’re still spinning in this stupid resolution, this distant ticking of time. It’s only in your sweet little mind buttercup. Time doesn’t tick. Every single circle will come back to the past to find the future. How can you determine when it should begin? How will you schedule who you move for? How will you reconcile with your soul if you don’t move for yourself? Fuck your time you are mine! Climb with me!’  ‘I’ll slip. I always fall back into what has been created for me. What? Do you think freedom is all r

There is life beside me. I am enslaved to the possibility of living. Bright blue is beginning to turn me on again. Like your bright toes glowed, rolling around on those chairs, slippery little buggers. I slipped and fell right into your sticky lap. Sticky goofy child eyes stuck to those gorgeous Persian thighs like that super stuff that never lets go. Then you let go. I don’t care. I’m not scared. When I’m pushed to my limits and all I want to do is give in, I feel. I am never-ending. Where I end is only the next breath I take. It’s easy. I am being breathed. If I think of breathing it holds me accountable to a certain rhythm. If I time the possibilities, I begin to imagine the impossible.              ‘Babe!’ She screams from the sea. I can’t see her, but she never seems to mind much. ‘Will you swim with me?’ she pleads. I cannot maintain the weight of my flesh when she calls for me. It bounces off the red mountains and skips around. When I’m chasing her, there is only one direction I can run and I’m always

‘Sage! What’s so funny? What did I say?’ She looks down at her naked body and searches for a sign of humor.             ‘No, baby, I just can’t imagine the joy that you must contain to release it through your little lips the way you do.’ She laughs; then turns very serious. I’m still laughing, its way out of my control now. She grips both my biceps and rips me from her, slams me on the empty sheets beside us. She rolls me away and starts kissing my spine. It tickles. I’m wild with spirit.             ‘Stop laughing!’ She demands. I don’t. I don’t care. I think I’m doing it on purpose. She presses herself against me, wraps one arm under my neck and over my lips. I try to bite. She slaps my right thigh as hard as she can. I start weeping. She doesn’t look away. She’s not afraid of pain. This is how she knows the magnitude of joy that I see in her smile. I know this. So my tears feel graceful in execution, and it excites me to know her fingers will catch them. My wild tongue tries everything to break free; sucki

In Dahab, time ceases to be. In Botswana little kids move their feet like magical beings. He looks up at me mid dance, flicks his wrist and flips his eyes. I can’t keep up. But I’m pretty damn cute trying all the same and he knows it. He’s 8. I’m 29. Its spring again I think. Back to back. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Who knows? His name is Sage. He’s an angel in disguise. His disguise is my face. I stop. I’m breathing like a maniac. I can’t catch up. I can’t stop smiling. I start walking home. I can’t stop laughing. There’s a pup that won’t stop following me around. I call her Rox for short. She’s got a stripper name. There’s a cutie at my place. Her place, but I’m a thief. I take everything that is not mine. I call her Shorty for short. She chopped off all her hair. She watches me cook. We scream bloody murder when we remember what we see. We giggle until we piss ourselves. We fall asleep on the street. We remember pissing ourselves. We remember everything. We remember our own piss and shit and we pl

‘Once upon a time there was a little boy; he was sitting on the floor. The floor was strange to him, but he was in love with the concept of foreign in nature, so his curiosity peeked to the point of ecstasy. He was staring up at a little girl on a blue couch. She was 30-years-old yesterday, wearing nothing but a black t-shirt and wool socks. He knew better than to look away. He knew he’d always stay, but time knew he’d always be every single place on earth in any single moment. That tomorrow would never come, and that somehow, someway; this girl of his would never change. She knew him better than he knew anything else, time that is.’              “Baby, go make me more coffee, would you!” She looked up from her book and tossed her cup into his lap. “Almond milk! Tons of it! Poor it faster, wont you! You move so slow slugger. I’m starving!”              The little boy is well behaved; he secretly loves to do what he’s told. Especially when he has no choice: by her command. He has no shame. No decency. No preci

‘So which half do I get first?’ ‘Who says you get any half?’ ‘I say, babyboy. You’ve got my little noggin in-between your legs, don’t you? I get whatever I please. Don’t play like I’m not in complete control.’ ‘Fine. Which do you prefer, real life or dreams?’ ‘Remind me again, what exactly is the difference?’ ‘Well, as far as I see things, real life is whatever we dream it to be. Most bodies have forgotten dreams. Most realities are being run on another’s version, spinning webs, making us all weave one giant sticky thing. All we do now is catch each other, suck the blood out; suck each other dry. All we do now is survive.’ ‘The half of the stupid chicken story that’s already been told, is it a survival story?’ ‘Totally.’ ‘Lets start with that then. I prefer my endings sad. I prefer it when reality lets me see a living that suffers. I ache to dance joyfully in the pain, but I refuse to look away.’   ‘Look at me!’ I scream. I grab her little face between both my palms and stick it right in front of mine. Our

‘Ollie. Olivia wild child, queen of my grassy gas masked playground. P is, me. She is the love of my life.’             ‘But you cant be every living thing just because it’s your story.’             ‘Ha! Don’t be silly. I can be anything I want to be, just so long as I stay dreaming. Now shut your fucking trap before I lose my temper again and slap your drool crusted cheeks around until you comply.’             ‘There’s not a violent bone in your body tough guy, nice try. You don’t scare me for a second. I know, all I’d have to do is say the words and you’d be on both knees staring up at me, begging to be dragged along by both cuffs on those tender wrists of yours.’             ‘Like the dog that I am.’             ‘Like the puppy you are. You never stood a chance in this world.’             ‘This world never stood a chance at dragging me along. I’ve always seen everything. I was born with these baby eyes. I was born free. Memory is the greatest weapon I’ve ever known. And If I remember correctly, you were th