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IUbodySHOTZ's blog: "Saturation"

created on 02/07/2007  |  http://fubar.com/saturation/b52758
Saturation It was raining while I was walking home that night. Even though it was raining I could feel the humidity sticking to my skin, creating a sweaty dew. My straps kept falling off my shoulder as I walked. Things like that always bothered me. Sometimes it seemed so intense that I wanted to stomp my feet, scream aloud, and pull my hair. Pushing those straps up over and over and over again drove me insane - kind of like you. I tried over and over and over again but it never seemed to matter: you just kept falling. I was saturated with rain and sweat and insanity by the time I keyed myself into my apartment. I threw my keys on the table and sat on the couch. And suddenly I felt this gut feeling, smelled the air and I thought that maybe you were there. But it was merely my imagination. When it came to you, my mind was always playing tricks. Just like you kept falling down over and over again, my mind kept telling me that it would be okay. But it was never okay. Not once. The lights kept flickering in my apartment that night. There wasn't even any lightening, it was strange. The air felt alive with a charge, an electricity. Maybe it was just me. Probably. As I was laying down that night I felt drugged. My eyelids were droopy and I just starred for hours. I felt your hand run up the length of my thigh and hot breath escaped from somewhere deep inside me; or maybe it was a sigh. Your fingers circled and your other palm laid flat against my stomach. Ripples. I loved that touch. The phone rang suddenly and then stopped. I blinked and then my eyes fluttered open...I gasped realizing I had been dreaming. Sitting up I reached for the light and turned it off. Over and over and over again. It was that damn strap again. Or was it you? Each time I thought of you I felt myself slipping further from happiness. You had killed me, yes. But you were dead to me. Pity. I'd much rather be saturated with insanity than dead inside. At least being crazy, I'd still feel alive. I don't know how you feel anymore or even if you continue to fall the way you used to. Probably not; you're better alone. You're better dead. I'm better crazy.
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