Resurrection Man

As you may know I am most active during this season. Don’t get me wrong, it’s mandatory to constantly work hard, but as for me, the level of motivation is highest when the sun is shining and temperature low and the smell of wet leaves sticking underneath my trainers.

 

Smile through melancholy and the end of something, which seemed precious and probably really was or is, I don’t know. All I know is that thinking about it makes me terribly sad; particularly the idea of not knowing and partly the fact that it’s not up to me to handle it. It makes me very sad.

More reason to let go, you say, but how if guilty conscience has already cast a heavy shadow on my back?

 

An ongoing scene appears clearest to me when I immerse in a solitary activity. What scene I mean will remain a secret for now, until I have completely figured it out.

 

I dreamt I was making love with Adso of Melk and when he came he burst into tears of guilt. Since guilt is slightly contagious, I felt a little bit responsible for his tears. I asked him something in order to alleviate the sense of guilt, but I woke up shortly after. Whatever it is that I said, I don’t think it would have made any difference to his sentiments.

 

I am a good-for-nothing in terms of not being able to access people the way I want to. The minute I believe I can crack his shell I back off. I end up just stroking the skin. And I hate myself for it, because it leaves me weak.

Or maybe I wasn’t even close to cracking the shell, but I’d like to think I was.

 

I guess this is why I’m no longer interested in emotional play and I am trying to focus more on the physical. Like one of the judges from the other day said that there was so much energy and power in my descriptions of the physical. Of course, Ellen is a surgeon, what else would interest her?

 

That’s why I’ll be at the Museum of London tonight – at the Dissection, Doctors and Resurrection Man exhibition. Stroking skin.

 

 

 

 

 

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