2004-11-20
The Anti-Christ
I suppose that I should be far more hurt than I am at this current moment. After a year of completely giving myself to someone, unconditionally�after a year of standing by that person, trying to understand them and marveling at simply them, there comes a time when one has to leave.
I did not fall in love with what he has become and I must be a complete, utter fool for not realizing this earlier: that he�s forgotten how to live�that he�s completely lost hold of the feeling one gets waking up every morning and realizing that, yes, you are loved by someone else. He�s completely blind to the fact that he�s the first thing I think about each morning as I wake up, and the last thing I think about before going to sleep.
That I would give anything�absolutely anything to see him happy�even if it�s not with me. I�d give anything to see him smile, and to wipe those worries from his wearied heart and soul. And, I drive myself insane with these thoughts that consume me and drape over me like iron-curtains�because do you understand what it�s like to love? Do any of you understand what it�s like to give your heart to someone?
And, do you know what that entails? Your heart is your essence, and with it are your stories, your smiles; the little things in this life that make you happy�
Within my own heart are voices of Vivaldi�s violins on chilled, autumn evenings�it�s the first time I read E.E. Cummings in my Honors English I class and told Mrs. Lane, �I like this poem�.
Hidden in that antique-chest heart of mine is the feeling that rushed through me as I first read Robert Frost�s �Fire and Ice��or the first time I read, �The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock��it�s how Spring Moon made me feel; it�s how Chopin�s Etude makes me feel and the first time I ever laid fingertips on piano keys. The first time I ever felt a feeling grow inside me�when I knew that perhaps I was human�and despite my young age, I knew that there was some journey ahead of me.
It�s when my father used to take me sailing on afternoons; when I found out the beauty that lies within the written word. It was listening to Beethoven for the first time. It�s the way I cry whenever I read Night, or how much I appreciate art after reading My Name is Asher Lev�and, so much more�
The way my soul swirls like smoke on winter mornings; how my cheeks feel when the breeze nips at them�it�s all there�and so much more!
Those are the things that are in our hearts�our stories, our hopes, dreams, fears, weaknesses, strengths--the essential. By handing one�s heart over to someone, you�ve given them such a large part of yourself�and who knows why people simply won�t realize that�how fragile and intimate it is when someone hands themselves over. Because, that, my friends, is the true meaning of �i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)��
And this here�s the secret nobody knows�
No one appreciates these things anymore. Who�d want the half-crazed, half-drunken-with-love writer to give up their hearts to them? People drive us to create�and create, and create, and create!
AND HERE�S THE GODFUCKING SECRET NOBODY KNOWS!
�I grow old�I grow old. I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled�� I�ve always liked that particular line.
Even before I knew what the moon meant; before I knew what kept the stars apart�I was willing to carry his heart(and carry it in my heart). You see how it�s inside parentheses? It keeps the other person�s heart safe�it�s all on the inside. I know how to keep someone�s heart safe!
And, I go crazy�I feel as if I�m slowly deteriorating day by day. Because people kill you, little by little. I realize that there are two things no one will ever take away: my love for music, and my love for writing. Those things are mine to keep. Even if I prostitute my heart, pass the fucking thing out like godfucking candy, I will always have whatever words I care to write.
This is the last time that I do this. Mark my words, it�s the last time. Speaking to the wonderful Raven last night, he mentioned something to the effect of, ��And when I walk into a room, people just know that I�m the Anti-Christ��
At that moment, he sounded so incredibly sexy�him, being the Anti-Christ: immoral, never hesitant to be �The Tempter�, utterly, utterly wicked. That�s incredibly sexy�in any guy.
The Anti-Christ�I�ve been pondering this all morning and all afternoon: what it�s like to be The Anti-Christ. While I hide it quite well, I have become one of the most immoral people I know.
Immorality mixed with utter wickedness is wonderful for the soul. And so, after getting my heart pulverized for the last time, I�ve decided that, after all, I�m only a few steps away from becoming The Anti-Christ.
This is what I will work on. Because years from now, like the sexy/wonderful Raven, I will casually walk into a room (wicked grin on my face, no doubt) and people will just know, that, yes, I am The Anti-Christ.
That is a title I will keep and cherish.