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We Don’t Talk About the Stuff in the Basement.

My blunt force trauma. An axe blow to the head.

I wake up half-conscious, dizzy–near paralyzed.

Trying desperately to recollect the memory of what happened–and what consequently led to the unfolding of these events.

Life is quite simple really but then why do we insist on making it hard?

They don’t love me. They never did. Ouch. That’s gonna hurt in the morning.

What’s behind that black door and what are they keeping in the basement and what don’t they want me to know?

Fuck it, I’ll take matters into my own hands the same way they unabashedly sought to secure my demise.

I tip-toe down to the basement, staggering still and in shock from the head trauma.

I may be going into this recklessly but all I know is facing things head on.

I try to ease my step yet I lose balance and fall pitifully down the stairs.

There’s a lot to be uncovered here. Things left unnoticed, unperturbed, relegated to the subconscious mind. Covered in a slew of cobwebs. This stuff has been left alone for decades. Even centuries…

Now that’s drama for your trauma…

Heartbreak Hotel

Even in my dreams, I’m getting my heart broken.

I long to be with you and be intimate with you but you have more important things. Why are you so caught up in trivial things?

You’re so shallow and still I like you. I want to feel you. You’re a good for nothing tease and I’m going to put an end to you.

You make it seem like you need me but you only need the things I can provide. What I need from you is much deeper and much more sensual.

So can we forget about everything so that I can be with you one night and release those inhibitions that hem us up?

It’s your choice but this endless flirting serves no purpose in the long run. Make your mind up.

I will show you I can be the man you’ve been searching for since you first became awakened.