...I just want to start
A flame in your heart.
In my heart I have but one desire,
And that one is you
No other will do.
I've lost all ambition for worldly acclaim.
I just want to be the one you love.
And with your admission that you feel the same,
I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of..."
- Horace Heidt
(made famous by The Ink Spots)
That songs seems to be making a big pop-cultural splash, and now it's stuck in my head. It's not as though that's a bad thing; it's a lovely soft jazz number, and the undertones in the song's meaning are quite lovely in my opinion.
Anyway, down to the real meat of this post: I'm writing again. Not like I was at the Daily...I actually quit that job, and hopefully it turns out for the better. But what I really mean is stories.
I used to write them quite often, mostly because my biggest muses were women and depression, neither of which were in too short supply (and both, subsequently, a cause of the other). I can't figure out which one of them I am using now...I want to say the latter, because I don't really feel like I have any "women" in my life.
There are some obvious options, but the idea that I would instruct someone not to settle, and then I would go and settle myself...well, I guess it just seems kind of anti-productive in that field.
I went through a long period where the physical traits seemed to fall short to the mental. It was a good time, but not really fulfilling...nothing ever came of it, because I was never attracted to the girls enough to want more than a friendship.
When I finally got what I wanted (however short of a time I may have "had" it) the girl at the time had both...but she wasn't where I wanted her to be in maturity level. It didn't turn out pretty for me. In the long run, she's doing extremely well, in a very serious relationship, making her own way and about to go into med school. Oh, and she matured...as a result of the shit we put each other through (go figure).
I guess what I'm trying to say is, even though I have a few very distinct options, I don't feel like I'm getting the full package. One might say, "It comes with time," however certain...aspects, let's call them...can't really change with time. Other...traits, let's say...take a world of pain to actually develop the way I'd like them.
The worst feeling in the world is quietly pining over someone you know you'll never have, only to realize you were right all along: you never will. So, maybe that's the sinking feeling in my chest? The reason those nightmares about the car crashes have returned? The spark for my muse?
I'll let the story unravel itself a little more each day, but even before I wrote Scarlet into the story I knew who she would be based off of. Which is ironic, because she was technically supposed to be based on someone else...
In the next month, someone is going to get hurt.
It will probably be me, pseudo-masochist that I am.
But, it might be someone else if I'm not careful.
Which might also result in me being hurt more.
I foresee no way that this will go down without at least one person getting hurt. I almost want to make it so that everyone is hurt, because then my pain would be folded onto itself in layers...sometimes pain is the easiest medicine to acquire for guilt. Ugh. Alright, this is getting a bit dreary.
The only reason I brought any of this up, is because I was so involved in a nightmare this morning, I overslept my early class...and now I don't have a class for another hour and a half. With that much boredom comes a wave of personal writing.
As with any post, if you think any of this is about you, but you're not 100% sure: then it's not about you. And if you think you're 100% sure it was you, then be less sure because it's probably not...with the exception of my first ex. But if she finds out where I post, then I'm in trouble anyway.
Over and out,