PARADIGM/SHIFTED

I am frustrated at not being able to

express.

Adequately.

And much. At once. Too much.

All for you.

And None for YOU.

Why must there always be a single sided paradigm, when in reality,

MY reality – it has shifted.

Why cannot love be held for two?

Why would it not be understood?

When I understand it perfectly.

I have more than sufficient.

But a coldness creeps up to greet me.

A “blackness” all too familiar.

The Black door, Yet again.

And I find myself aloof, Unfeeling.

If you cannot accept – I SHOULD CARE?

Any which way you choose.

But I will give up, hand over

NOTHING.

Adaptation is the key word here.

And at once.

NOT a moment later.

Death of Each Other

A little laughter,

I beg of you.

Is it too late now?

I don't believe it is.

We have all the time in the world.

It means so much.

So very very much.

YOU do.

I have no regrets.

Even if you don't laugh, and I can't make you -

At least there will be a little joy. In whatever pleasure.

Sensually, or perhaps just in your imagination.

Maybe just casually. Simply...

There are no errors, no mistakes.

But fear.

Therefore: do not fear. No space/No time for this.

We have become entangled like an intricately woven knot.

Cool

       Hot

             Ice

                  Melting

Shards

          Glass

                  Bleeding

                               Heart

Wounded.

Forever.

              At your mercy. 

                                      We'd be the death of each other.

Perhaps because we are each other.

Spontaneous.

                     Ravage.

                                 Destroy.

                                              Pleasure.

ME.

Where my place is/Not ANYWHERE.

What do you desire? Silence.

Noise.

Passion? Perhaps from a lover? (ex) /or perhaps no longer so (ex)

Perhaps you wish for a vacuum...At least from me.

Say the word, and it shall be done.

Perhaps I have intruded. Perhaps it was never my place, but still I feel wrong.

I feel wrong in having made this statement.

I feel right. Right at home. Right here.

In this place that we have created.

What has happened? What has transpired?

What has taken place?

Nothing.

For once, I have inadequate words to describe.

To give you (the reader) sufficient visual information on how I feel.

And so I doubt myself.

                                   As I often do,

Self loathing, it so becomes me.

                                          I need to remember my place.

Friend.

           Never challenge more.

For there is a most delicate of balances here,

at work – sublimely. 

                               Silken.

                                         Easily penetrated.

Easily destroyed.

And my terror lies in this destruction,

in the dissolving of this tender touch.

To never see your face again.

That would be the death of me.

                                              Of my soul.

To never hear your voice again...

and so, I don't know 

where my place is.

 

It is neither here nor there.

Perhaps it is not ANYWHERE.

New Found

If I were a god,

which I am not,

but if I were, these are the ways in which I would use my powers:

If you were to cause me pain: I would bless you with countless days of bliss.

If you were to hurt me emotionally: I would bless you with endless happiness.

My wish for you is that no matter your anger, your hatred, your depression, your negative feelings toward me, that you may be blessed, with nothing but love, humility, peace, positivity.

I want you healed, vibrant and alive. Complete in you. Complete in who you are.

It kills me to see your sad, lonely – alone. It kills me to know that you are lost and torn and uncertain. It so reminds me of me, of us. Of the fact that we seem to be “one” - so similar.

So very, very much the same.

Experience of past has drawn us to the present.

And experience of the present has returned us to the past.

I am haunted, I am torn. I have questions that I dare not ask, for I am afraid of getting nothing.

No answers, a void. A nothing.

Can you remember how? Can you remember when?

You are so the same. You have not changed.

Not one way or the other. So familiar, that I am scared. Not of you.

I keep seeing a different vision of what you looked like then. Fusing the two together.

I am so incredibly comfortable in your presence. Like I saw you yesterday.

Like you have always been here.

No need to be pretentious. No need to be someone else.

But having you here, having you near, has made me wonder and remember another.

And what would it be like if we still had him here. Who knew, right?

But fire burns, burns us clean. Burns all feeling away, erased.

Even through different planes.

Just know, whatever – you are relevant. Meaningful.

Wise.

At least to me. You are my New Found!

Dear Johnny

Dear Johnny,

Rejection is not something that I handle well -

So rather than risk the possibility -

I just don't allow myself to be put in the situation at all.

If you held my hand – that was fine -

but I was always afraid to take yours.

Every day when your face goes through my mind a million and one times,

I find myself going a little more mad (we all know I'm already mad)

A little more crazy – as I try to make sense of what's happening to me –

what I’m doing, and what I’ve

ALREADY DONE.

I regret nothing, except for my bitterness, my anger towards you. The stupid arguments we had, and the nasty things I said about you.

You know, just as much as I do – that I never meant any of those things that I said about you or “us”.

And I so deeply wish time and time again that you had accepted my apology – imagine how different things would be between us now.

But then again, maybe in a strange way, it's a good thing, because if it hadn't been for our “fall-out”,

then I would probably not have brought myself around to doing this.

Usually when I deal with people in life, I am straight forward, and I tell them exactly what I think (that they should go to hell) – but when I write something like this –

when I take the time to do this – you have to realize that it means something more than just a few words on a piece of paper.

So what more can I say except:

I’m sorry for the person I was -

and the things I said and did.

I’m sorry for being so cold – so unfeeling, if I had given myself a split second to think twice about it – I know I would have been different.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

But after a lot of soul searching – now I know the answer.

And with what I’m about to say,

I’m opening myself up –

allowing myself to be vulnerable in a certain sense,

but there's only one person who can take advantage -

let the choice be theirs!

I was trying to do something:

I was trying to cure someone else's pain,

I was trying to erase someone else's memories -

but no matter how much I tried – I couldn't.

Nothing within myself was good enough.

I felt that I couldn't measure up to my usual standards of helping others -

I COULDN'T HELP YOU!! I let you down.

When you spoke to me about memories from the past – things about your past relationships, things that I know hurt you, I wanted to soothe you,

try to make you feel better – but I couldn't.

I could only sit there, listening to you, and watching you,

feeling your pain,

your anger – and I just felt there was nothing that I could do.

How would you have reacted, then, if I had gotten up and given you a hug, or taken your hand to hold?

To my imagination, you more than likely would have rejected me, told me to get lost -

        and that was not a risk that I could take.

So, of all the strange things that I had to do, this was yet the strangest:

I faced you – and when I did so -

I felt as though I faced myself.

I saw you, and all your anger and all your pain -

and I saw the way that you openly expressed yourself

and at the same time,

as I watched you – I watched myself.

The only difference was that I could never show my true feelings that way -

what pain I keep, is kept inside.

You wondered why I never smiled,

why I was always unhappy.

Well, after a while I had to ask myself these questions:

Why when I’m around you do I feel so inadequate?

Why did I feel that I wasn't good enough?

You were so quick to judge me – that you never gave me a chance to show you who I was beneath the bitch.

You know, I would have in time. You just never gave me the chance.

You had to listen to what everyone else said about me first.

I guess that made me angry.

No – not angry, it made me think if that was what you expected – well that's what I’d give you.

I know it wasn't right.

So allow me to go back to the questions.

Why did I never smile?

Why was I so unhappy?

Because I felt so inadequate?

Because I felt I was NOT GOOD ENOUGH?

WHY?

I kept asking myself these questions.

And so, my conclusion is that only YOU have the answers.

So – in the end, what you do with this letter is your choice –

all I ask is that you read it and consider!

If you change your mind – leave a message with Matthew (Berry) –

or call me on this no: 011 613 6303.

Love Georgia.

* Do you know what the funny thing is? I still want to take away your pain. 

Note: This was a letter I wrote to Johnny Leonard Du Preez sometime during the week of 06 Jan 1997 and 12 Jan 1997. I am not 100% certain that I sent it, but I do have a memory of sending him some sort of a letter. Perhaps it was this one. 

Perhaps not. Either way, he'll get it now...