9
all is trouble on the western front i’ve succeeded, no less, in getting your attention—as we roll tide, i belong, then, to the state of Alabama, which, for all I know, can disappear in an instant, just like my campaign for the presidency; and, with an election forthcoming, i guess i was hoping, perhaps a little out of reach, in a democratic senate—one that would put a stop to everything.
“this is no evil investment,” as i quote unquote screw the pooch, making mince meat of my enemy colleagues, those that speak of values, and standing by the president, in the same paragraph. this man, i know, goes home and recounts the things that he said, over and over (i know because, once, it was out of my control) until he’s satisfied that his message has been posted in every possible direction (in Hilbert space—with an infinity of possible dimensions, all a little this way or that way, smaller and smaller, like the number of fractions between one and two).
lock and load “these are complex numbers,” and i seem to understand, although i’m not sure i do, what, exactly, is worse—to love you and be denied, or to have you think of me when you diss the republican party? Either way, as Elvis (the one and only king) “it’s over,” and, “it’s over.”
But that’s just me taking stock of what could happen, if, for example, all that power—or all that loss, goes to your head, and you punish yourself (and me, of course) by sleeping around. That makes you dirty, so that you get what you want—a man that’s been neutered, and can’t love you anymore, although, it sometimes seems, that i do.
You’ve a little experience, i suppose—you’ve gone through this before, but, as it happens, you’ve lasted a decade—what if we lasted a decade? Wouldn’t that be a daunting amount of time to make up for? Yet another failure in the books? I can’t make sense of you either way you’re hot for me one day, and cold, closed off, like ice, the next. I don’t like it when people run hot and cold, thinking, as they do, only of themselves maybe there’s a reason for that, such as, i guess, the possibility that they don’t have the means to look after themselves. I’ll invite, dear friend, the wealthy into this country: you’re citizenship shall be expedited, and we, the chosen, will have the luxury of selling our services (and our products) to these bags of cash.
i wish, she says, that you wouldn’t do that—and i’m wondering if she’s talking about my preparations for a setback it’s been about six months so, as you know, we’re set for a meltdown, some cheerful reminder that, somehow, we’re not on the right track, no, no, we’re doing something wrong, something is not working, and, while i imagine it’s the world abusing me, i can’ help but notice that, when i prostest (throwing a tantrum, of sorts, as if I were a child, which i’m not) i somehow do what’s been done to me, making the whole conundrum one hell of a lot worse.
now, you must be wondering why i used a curse word, and, to be honest, i’m making a surgical strike, (i’m attacking the state of Alabama) since i’ve been having trouble, for years, now, at making a friend. But, lo and behold, i’m looking for more than a friend—i’m looking for a person that goes with you through thick and thin, as you strike the iron, then, when it’s hot, and your love becomes something completely personal, and private, you—something that you cannot put into words, something that, therefore, cannot be explained in a satisfactory way, and maybe, i don’t know, but that could be a problem i suppose
everything becomes about me and you—and, i suppose, that’s how it is, in some places—we’re worshipped, in some places, as the world’s most important ensemble, and, because of that, when I say gee! you can trick them, and say haw! we’re sure, then, to walk a line, but that line, which overlaps, necessarily, with another line, eventually goes to zero, and we’re back at the origin. So, what’s your origin story? What made you want to get into politics—and what do you see as your crowning achievement what will you actually accomplish in office do tell us, because Alexandria and I would like to know
so? We’re not that intimate, yet? Does that mean we will be, once, that is, the space between us is relieved? No sense left in beating a dead horse, nagging for change, nagging for immediate results, getting older, wanting a little, to change my life. how dare you?? and i’m wondering what you’re on about now—you can’t talk that way about a lady unless you’re talking about my wife: what do you say to a round of golf—or cutting down a cherry tree—that was when presidents supposedly, didn’t tell lies—they didn’t need to tell lies, because they hadn’t done anything wrong
We’ll find each other eventually, although, i suspect, you won’t have any children to raise; it may surprise you, but have we considered the possibility that you won’t like me? In real life, i mean? but what about this isn’t real? i’d like to prove that i’m talking to you—but this is something that happens entirely inside, and you can’t prove to someone that you’re not lying at least when it comes to nontrivial situations—complex emotions and attachements, reasons for being, etc. i know we will but in reality you know nothing; there is no certainty except that, one day, your time, on this earth (for now) will come to an end, and we’ll be happy together but, alas, that’s not soon enough, so i make headway, little be little, sometimes in leaps and bounds, to build a road, a connection, a space between me and you