Chimes: 2018 Edition (emended Blazevox book pdf)

#16
I fell in love with one who symbolized my struggle with “cool.” I was a slave to
her gaze, which went many ways, and was a burr in my side because she had
no mercy. It was not to be. I was in love and it gave her an excuse to taunt which
would relieve her pain, which was not an artist’s pain and unacknowledged, and
so taunts became the taut tensions of my everyday existence, and I bore up as
best I could but I was only considered cool “in a way.” Because I had not formed,
I wanted what was outside of me; I needed my own help. I coveted her surface
patina of blood and chocolate: that ooze.
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