ABC, 123

three little letters were your gift to me.

Cute smile, honey skin, an emotional lover,

your touch and caress lead me to bother.

Your ladylike manners, upon reflection,

didn`t betray the potency of your infection.

One for luck, twos a charm, three though, THREE!!!

was the number of STDs you gave to me.

So I write as you fly off home & away,

I am quite glad you decided not to stay.

Remember the beach, our first night, I held you so tight,

we danced salsa, merengue till it was light.

When I left you next day, you were close to tears,

today I am far from our clinking-glass cheers.

Doctor gave me pills and a cream to put on my cock,

I`d give anything to turn back the clock.

Now I lie here suffering the pain,

oblivious to you that your to blame.

—background—

Rattle at the door

Shhhhhh

Key turns in the lock

SHHHHHH

I enter the house

CÀLLASE MATEO!!!!!!

(Fucking mentalist – I think)

Me gusta tu camiseta mucho!

(thinking positively) Really??

NO es horrible, yo no cree que usted fue a una barra en eso! Ja ja ja

Whaddabitch!

—5 mins later—a statement—

“I am moving.” I told her. Just to where I am not so sure. Definately won`t stay here. I can`t. Just one thing after another. It`s not me; IT`S HER!

Cold psychotic case

Finds me soft

Thinks me easy

Finds me gone…..

—4 mins later—the attack—

Bursts into my room, sees me cool, calm and collected a n d <shoUTS!!!

PATÈTICO….INHUMANO….PEURIL….DESCONSIDERADO….EGOÌSTA….

This is like what it is to live here in this house. Insults. At lease they are clearer now, and more explicit.

It is a horrible situation, and I really hate living in it.

—1 min after—reflection—

I am a good person, I like to be treated with respect as I try to treat other people. I work hard in my job, the rewards are scant but plentiful.

I am an adult and I make my own decisions – good or bad. Once made I will stick by them and if wrong I will admit my mistake.

Away from my family & friends here in Costa Rica; insults hurt. I have no one to cry too, no one to give me a boost.

I am sad here in this house and I need an escape. That is not a bad thing to do at all.

Are you a player?  Do you have something going on with a few girls at the same time?  Telling yourself your not cheating because your not in a “relationship” with them?  You say you love them all, you can`t choose between them, you get great sex wherever you look, what more could you need!  You got is made.  Any hassle from them?…just call another!  Feel good?  I hope so, because that’s it.

A player doesn`t risk any hurt involving himself with a woman because he is confident he won`t get hurt. He wants the short term satisfaction and none of the baggage.

Through many women he never feels pain.  If it gets heavy it gets finished.  He always has other options through which he can find comfort and sex (which he mistakes for love)

No pain, No risk, No problem – what a life!

No Love

After a lifetime of too much sex and not enough love you get old – fast.

What did you really do with your life?

Time + Thought = Trouble

But should it be this way?

Surely Time + Thought = Memories is better?

I have been toying with the idea for a while. The idea of shutting down all these external factors in my life. To focus on the me. I have to quit my addiction to the short term. I am addicted to the quick fix, the instantaneous satisfaction. I am an acknowledged addict.

Come Wednesday of this week, I will complete my withdrawal.  Women will be merely friends.  Attractions will be ignored.  Big words coming from from the addict.  But what else should I give.  After a lifetime of broken relationships, avoidance and dearth of love what do I have to lose.

How quickly it changes, before my eyes.

yes to no. sun to cloud. love to hate
A split second. As I pass I see, as I look back shes gone.

Where once was sun is rain, where once was beauty is nothing.

The cool calm breeze waving the flowers has turned cold. There are clouds looming, shadows.

I never liked summer days till winter was at my door, then I looked back to the days I spent complaining about the heat – now there is none, just cold silence. A barricade of dead trees and metal protects me from the hand of winter. Where were those squandered summer days now? What would I give, what would I give.

For just a glimpse of my paradise lost…

Betwixt the world destroyed and the world restored…

What has gone can come again, what is here will go. The inevitability of it all.

That’s the forecast for today.

My girl`s mad at me.

Been on the telephone for an hour.

She hardly said a word.

I tried and I could not be heard

I love to fuck.  I fuck and fuck.  I am an intelligent animal -  and that’s the problem.  A living ontological dualism.  I am intelligent yet I am animal.

I love to fuck and I love to get fucked.  I love to use and I love to be used.  I feel love when I am fucked and used. Animal.

I rationalise on occasion.  I also bite when a moment strikes me.  I can be logical and fair but also selfish and cruel.  I am an ontological dualism my life is torn.

If I fuck I miss the love and if I love I miss the fuck.  Solutions?  Don`t make me laugh. 2 girls – 2 lives – That comes nowhere close.  I have emotions!!!!

I feel inside – fucking will lose my soul; it spreads me too thin.  too many women, too many fears.

I need to be loved but I show it by the fuck – an expressive fuck.  Physical obsession is my affliction – affirmation through mutual masturbation; my comfort in the hands of another.

But the end?        the exit?

Will my fucking fuck me up?

I`m fucking tabloid but talk broadsheet.  I`m fucking a playboy which is read for the journalism.  I`m pure pleasure – avoiding complications.  I`m Alton Towers without the long drive, I`m 6 beers without a hangover, I`m Steven Hawking in space.  I am, in a work; unreal.

I move countries to hide from conflict.  I don`t even know if I want to change.  My dad cheats on my Mum – my first thought?    Any guesses?     I can now justify my behaviour by blaming him.   I am American.  I have no shame.

How can you be 24 with 30 noches on the bedpost……….

If I am some kind of sexually obsessed man-mental……why does she stay with me?

She is too old and…..and…..and….

If I log onto MSN Messenger (I do so maybe twice in 6 months) I can meet; now this is on a good day; 2 female friends who I could fuck straight away (if I was in their country). Worldwide I could fuck almost all my female friends. Mucha Fuck.

But despite this crash mat for the single life.

I think of her. I don`t know. I don`t want her I don`t know.

BUT LOGICALLY if she is there in my head, then she should be here by my side,

talking to me.

Thats all.

Just to know.

You know.

I`m so drunk.

I`m just twenty-four Maybe this is another lost love. There has been one before. Love that I can`t accept, not the right time for me. I am not ready & I can`t rush it to be ready. I have love but on my terms not yours. Sorry, you will have to wait, or better still, stop.

It`s just a title at the moment: The Morning After. That’s all.

Things seem clearer now – or maybe they were never obscure. Tired bones cause unnecessary moans.

I can deal with the day-to-day just not the nights. The monster grows after darkness falls. Fuelled by thought, time, space, silence, and weary souls. He opens the doors to forbidden thought just as a flame does.

It separates man from beast – the ability to make flame. Just a single flame separates Matthew from himself.

What?! No it does not. What is a flame. I am a human animal struggling with his inner desires and misplaced priorities. What else would a twenty-four year old on the edge of twenty-five think about……..