What the...?: Interlude

Barathus: An Interlude

I never really believed in a lot. Call me Uncommitted. That has changed. I feel like I have to get this out, record it, because soon, I don’t think I’ll be able to tell the difference between me and him. He is coming more and more often now. I thought at first it was just my mind and this fucking place playing tricks on me, but now I see that his mind is stronger than mine. I will be gone soon, and I want to leave something behind, even if it’s just this diary that no one will ever read.

I’ll try to start at the beginning. The first thing I want to say is fuck you Gigi. I followed you. I believed in you. I came to find you. And you were empty. You were an illusion. Happiness? No. The promise without the payoff. No happiness there. But I bought it. I came to this fucked up place for you and only you. (Even the name of this place is creepy. “Barathus”? Whoever came up with that ought to have his head examined. If anyone ever reads this, look up the origin of that word.) And so here I am, after chasing that ghost that is called

KEEPLOOKINGKEEPLOOKINGIHAVETOOMUCHFUNTOSTOP

Shit. There he was again. I have to hurry.

2.             Where ‘mid the gust, the whirlwind, and the flaw
             Of rain and hail-stones, lovers need not tell
             Their sorrows. Pale were the sweet lips I saw,
             Pale were the lips I kiss’d, and fair the form
             I floated with, about that melancholy storm.

The town was a normal small town, if maybe even a little too Norman Rockwell for me. I liked it, but the it gave off a very strange vibe, a feeling of things were just a little too nice, too perfect. It was like a re-run of Father Knows Best, where you know there is something going on under the surface, something not exactly wholesome that can be bookended in one episode. You just don’t know what it is. I swear, when I first got there, I could just see the high school girls wearing poodle skirts and the dads smoking pipes. Maybe

YESYESYES

I was a little jaded, but I came here from a much different place.

I didn’t have to come. But the memories of that time were just too strong.

I met you at the supermarket. I remember it like it was yesterday, even though it was 10 years ago. You were wearing blue jeans and that damn Alabama Crimson Tide sweatshirt that just said “’Bama”. For some reason, that shirt was always just yours. If I saw anyone else wearing it I would have to say that they don’t belong in it. Just you. But whatever. Anyway, you know the rest. The love, the fights, the amazing times, the horrible times. When you walked out of my life, there was a hole in my heart that never healed. But that long tends to dull things. To make it just an ache, not a wound. Scar tissue can fill in a cut, but it is always visible.

So when my phone rang and it was your number (I never lost it, even though I didn’t know if you even still had it)

OFCOURSENOTYOUARETOOMUCHFUNIWILLHAVESOMUCHTIMEWITHYOUYOUDON’TKNOWWHEREYOUARE

I answered. The only thing you said was come where you are, you need help. And that wound tore open again, the scar tissue cannot and did not hold.

Follow me, you said, help me you said, I love you, I need you, I want you. I did. I followed you. I went down the path, I saw the forest, I saw the cliff, I saw the things no one should see and that no one can remember the way they should. The things that seem like a dream, but do not fade the way a dream does when you wake up.

That was a dream, an illusion. A ghost of the past I can never quite grasp. You. That. All of us, all of me. >focus now, it’s getting worse<

READTHISLOVETHISYOUWERELIEDTOANDYOUWENTINTOITWITHEYESSHUTYOULOVEDITDOYOUREALLYTHINKYOUCANBESTRONGERTHANMEBETTERTHANMESMARTERTHANMENO

You lied. I followed you.

9-11

Rocky Road

Denver Broncos

Lilacs

“I read it for the articles.”

Red Bull

40 Year Old Virgin

McMuffins

Alex

Peelers

I first saw him when I was talking to the doctor. There was something under the doctor’s shirt that I couldn’t figure out. I have questioned so many people, made them talk. That Iraqi in the basement of Baghdad can attest to that. He died with 2 fingers and zero genitals left, and he talked. They all talk. But this fucker wouldn’t. This doctor just kept fingering that fucking necklace or whatever the hell it was under his shirt. This was after. After I woke up and you were gone. Jester hat. In the corner. Laughing at me. Telling me I wasn’t as good as I used to be. The doctor told me to look under the tree. I left. Fuck him. Let him have his necklace if he wants it so bad. I had to find you. And I did. But I’d take it back if I could.

I’m not going to keep it together very much longer. I have to get this out. Red is love. Red is blood. White is peace

NOPEACENOLOVEONLYMEONLYSTRIFEONLYCHAOSONLYTHETREETHATFEEDSALLOFUSOURDAILYMEMORIES

Christ, this is getting bad….

Gigi. I miss you. If I only have one minute, one day, one hour until I am gone and he is all that is there, just know I came here to find you and lost myself. But I don’t regret it. I am lost already, but the search for you made me feel like there is something better out there. I will be just another crazy fool here, but maybe I always was

EVERYONEISMADHEREYOUCANNOTFIGHTITWHODOYOUTHINKYOUAREYOUWILLNOTANDCANNOTFIGHTMEYOUSTOPTRYINGSOHARDNOONEGETSOUTOFHEREALIVEYOUCANTGOHOMEANYMOREYOUFUCKINGLOSE

GI Joe

Crayons (What color?)

Time to make things right

“I’m already dead, I’ll rise to fall again.”

The little one

I have to give in now. I don’t want to. I’m sorry. It’s too strong. Goodbye.

Invictus Maneo