Reality

I think I am a child of moments. I think I will do anything, anything at all, just for the emotional experience of it. There is no one who could always make me happy, always satisfy me and that is no one's fault, not even mine. But I will fucking fight for the experience of everything. I can't feel anything else at all. I can only feel those moments everyone else lives for, is happy for, is grateful for, can wait for. I can't wait for them. I burn, burn, burn. Give them to me. Give me your love in increments. I know you can never love me forever. I change, change, change every moment. No one can keep up with that. No one. In my fucking massive desire for everything I get everything. I get everything I want but that peace that comes from this is the end, baby. This is perfect. I have a perfect but no one can achieve it and so my perfect is what is perfect right this moment. I'm more certain than ever that I've actually left a string of lovers in my wake who want me so badly it makes them question and that makes me feel sexy and strong and destructive and POWERFUL. I know you want me. I KNOW IT. Now YOU have to live with that and your decisions....I, on the other hand, while alone and childless, am FREE. I am FREE. FREE. Are you?

You're not, love. None of you are. And I can have you. All of you. I can destroy lives and families and worlds....

I feel mother fucking mythical.