the only answer is
the perpetual maintenance of ironic distance
like for instance –
we
ascribe meaning to worthless bits of paper
knowing full well they’re only worthless bits of paper
and in its worthlessness even the paper is now being phased out
replaced by a piece of plastic in my pocket with an expiry date without
ironic distance this whole worthless mess of a situation would be enough to want to throw your body into a
ravine
& hope to land on the sharpest rock
but
then
add
on
top
every other contrivance like clothing or a haircut – decided
not
thru functionality but under an assumption that they are who we are
( and maybe they’ve got a point i mean i did
buy that harley davidson tshirt the one
that says work sucks, lets ride… because
work sucks & we should ride… )
did i ever tell you i want to ride with you specifically?
not on a harley davidson because that would give me anxiety
but on a train going anywhere less ironic than here
but i’m scared because falling in love requires the most ironic distance – at once believing that
someone will hold you till you’re bones but simultaneously holding in your
lousy brain the knowledge that statistically
speaking they are not the one
& that the one is a fucking joke
propping up the banks & the housing market
& the romantic comedy dvd market
& the 10kg bags of pasta market
& the wedding poetry market
with all this in mind perhaps monogamy leads to more violence than the alternative
but really i don’t care about all that
i’m
just
upset
that it seems to
only take 6 months
before people realise i’m not the person that they’d hoped i was.
i’m sure that’s what happens in most relationships but i do think in my case it seems awfully fast.