Monday, July 03, 2006

Against The Wall





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When it's good then the two of you don't even need to talk to each other or even look at each other you just let it flow.
Maybe the guy likes your partner and so you turn into a goon and you hammer him and hammer him at every lie and your partner can be there to pick up the pieces and hold the guys hand until he spills or maybe, and this is good too, maybe he doesn't like either one of you and you can both be dicks. Or off and on. But what matters is that when its right your guy turns from one of you to the other and you reach out to him and offer him a towel or a smile and then you knock him back with something that hurts. You watch his eyes rattle around in his head. You wait for him to sigh. You wait for his denials to slow down and to lose their emphatic power. You listen and you listen and you listen and you mirror. You mirror defeat. You mirror hopelessness. You give him your heart and then you take it away from him. You give him your love, you give him your understanding and then you pull away. You love him like a woman would. You flatter and cajole. You bully and threaten. You cry and plead. You go silent and let the room fill with silence until he can no longer breathe.

You pull your chair up in between his knees and you lean in and whisper or you listen to him whisper and you do not breathe and you slowly pull your chair up closer.

If you are an artist you can touch him.

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I have lost them right there. Too eager, too full of myself and my own hunger I have closed in too soon and turned it all to ashes. You can back off, circle around, but once you use your mojo and it fails you are only waiting around for him to invoke or for the light to die in your own eyes.


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What is best I think is when you are always honest and you are telling a story that has no other ending. And you are really there and really listening to what he has to say. Everyone wants to tell you their own version, and it is sometimes only a matter of finding a way to make your story and his story come out the same.

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What I have done I have done always and always with a fearless heart. With open eyes. My job is to bring you to the place you have been striving for all this long time. To take away your lies and your denials and your fear and to help you come to it all with something approaching grace.


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Everybody is the same. We all do wrong. We all want to cheat the man we owe. The hammer's coming, all you can do is decide if you want your eyes open and your head up or if you curl up in a ball and cry like something less than a man at the end.


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I opened up this door and I will shut it soon.


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3 Comments:

Blogger jitney said...

yes. that's it. it has its own heart, scott.
this is beautiful stuff.

6:29 AM  
Blogger 21k said...

god I haven't been here in so long, and I could spend all day on each post telling you the same thing as Jim just said beautiful -
but on this one - against the wall - when I got to the end I had this sudden thought, I wanna go down to California and get arrested. You make interrogation sound better than marriage!

haha

I don't think cops come in your colour up here - you are something else.

7:05 AM  
Anonymous cnc said...

Tearless wrote: What I have done I have done always and always with a fearless heart. With open eyes. My job is to bring you to the place you have been striving for all this long time. To take away your lies and your denials and your fear and to help you come to it all with something approaching grace.

Still avoiding pathology and dallying here... this rings so true. It makes me feel like when I read cormac maccarthy the first time....

"What he loved in horses was what he loved in men, the blood and the heat of the blood that ran them. All his reverence and all his fondness and all the leanings of his life were for the ardenthearted and they would always be so and never be otherwise."

Reading all your stuff makes me feel like a blind person, putting her hand on the speaker so she can feel the beat to dance. Really really really... real.

And, because I have no talent of my own, but something of a decent memory... it also brings to mind Henry Newbolt.

To set the cause above renown, to love the game beyond the prize.
To honor while you strike him down, the foe that comes with fearless eyes.
To count the life of battle good, and dear the land that gave us birth.
And dearer yet, the brotherhood, that binds the brave of all the earth.

Except, that you and mccarthy make me taste it on my tongue.

Thank you.

5:02 PM  

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