abra KADAVER

From his book Roomanitarian, from the chapter Song of the Solipsist.

I look at you and I know I am wrong. I am drawn to you. The attraction is pure as dirt. I claw myself from the inside. I know already. Too far away. Too much damage done. If things were different. I could show you something besides obsessed fury. You’re beautiful. No one knows it more than I do. It’s hard to stand and watch from a distance. The fact that I wouldn’t know what to do anyway makes it hurt all the more.

I would tell you everything. I would give you all I have if I could trust you. If you wouldn’t think I was crazy. If you wouldn’t freak out and leave me while I was freaking out and leaving you. I’m scared of going far away while sitting in front of you. I’m terrified of terrifying you. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I know I do though. I’m walking dead. I don’t care about most things anymore. I hurt people’s feelings all the time. They ask how I could say something like that to someone else. How I can be so cold. I don’t feel. I don’t know the damage I do. I think I might be in the wrong business. Truth has never been valued in my profession. A lot of them just want everyone else to like them. They’ll do whatever it takes. They really don’t care. I think that more cruel in a away. They are adoration hoarders. They go door to door collecting power. They say they don’t care what anyone thinks. They spend more time thinking about you than you ever will about them. I always saw that as an insecurity and a reminder of myself.