The Poem: My Eucalyptus
What happens when you no longer live under my moon.
Will your leaves still season each colorful breeze.
Will I find every leaf’s imprint in the shale of my mind.
Your gifts were more than shade and strength to lean upon. Your countenance will last forever.
You were my eucalyptus.
The Prose: Le Petit Mort
The little death. Like a deep breath, you quell the pain of all the guilt ridden sighs in my chest.
You see, sometimes I need a whirlpool for my brain. Normal is just a setting on the dryer she exclaimed. To which I proclaimed, that’s so refreshing I might just love you for it.
But the fairer sex cannot be the only tiny death I find.
You see, I am getting good at Le Petit Mort because I am finding ways to get better at La Vie.
When I was younger I believed that like the song says: ‘it’s better to feel pain than nothing at all’ and after all ‘the opposite of love is indifference’ so how could I have been any different.
I still forget the hangovers now and then and tie one on but thankfully I feel the need to suffer bad decisions only very rarely now and I think I might outgrow it.
I used to get stoned alone when I needed to press the reset button. Sometimes I still do.
Nowadays, my worst vices might be met art but that doesn’t quite give me Le Petit Mort I get from art.
My maxim is make love or art everyday. So I make a lot of art these days. If there is empty sex is there such a thing as empty masturbation?
Cuz that’s how I would feel lately.
But now I’m shirtless in the dark on my chaise getting the finest Le Petit Mort this side of true love. Headphones in, writing this prose. Using my iPhone’s keyboard like Jackson pollock used a canvas.
Or like James Deen gives his costar a money shot. The DNA of my words flow onto the screen.
Having intellectual intercourse with myself. Listening to one of those calm rainy mixes on 8tracks.
This is my happy place. The digital glow of my screen on a face between two white earbuds. Dollars for China from another faithful digerati without conscience for the plight of the humans who made this disposable bullshit.
Anywho, don’t let that ruin this intercourse. For, the world is fucked up and we have to live with ourselves somehow. So just draw lines where you can and make yourself another hypocrite hipster. Don’t worry, you’ll forget about that white guilt in 2.5 seconds you fucking piece of shit.
I can’t shake that quote, the one about ‘the way you talk to your children becomes their inner voice’.
Dear inner voice, today you have been over zealous.
So now I fap words. Catharsis I seek thee. Just one of those weeks where I feel like I am becoming the adversary of those dearest to me.
How doth I hath’d betrayed thine own trust this week? My 29th year is upon me and I am understanding that longing for a secure place in this world among a family of your own creation.
I guess nature did a pretty good job of ensuring an explosive population. If the pursuit of Le Petit Mort doesn’t do it, you’re sure to experience the biological pull at some point or another.
But I refuse to settle and I will not compromise my commitment to building the life for my family that I want for them.
But I still find myself sitting there doing the mental calculations to determine how young or old I might be when my imaginary kids enter college.
Then there are the possibilities that scare me. My closest doppelgängers are the early 40’s successes who put off kids to focus on business.
I guess I just have to trust that it will happen in due time but I’ve seen a man in his 50’s cry because he never had kids, and can attest that their exists a certain type of tragic loss and regret for someone in that position.
I’m not saying their aren’t people who are perfectly happy and have never regretted not having children, but I am just not of that mindset.
Like, everything I do is for them. (My future family) I learn recipes spurred by the motivation of preparing them for my family. I get excited after watching a great movie because I know I’ll want to introduce my kids to it one day. I guess nothing sounds cooler to me than making a great dinner for my kids and then watching a movie together. To me, fatherhood is as important of a job as being President.
The culture of my family is something I think about constantly. I suppose it’s because I am such a black sheep in contrast to ‘normal’ and I just want this really cultured, comfortable and intellectual family.
I know I am not perfect but I’ve shaken out a lot of my demons over the years and what’s left is a guy who daydreams about the cold winter day when he can stay home and entertain his children’s folly.
In the meantime I am getting a first class education from the school of life. Let me tell you. I’ve taken some classes once, and some I have yet to pass but I am thankful for the experiences nonetheless.
Right now I’m really working on inner peace. It’s why I am laying awake at 2:30 am writing this.
There are just questions I need answers to and sometimes the only way to discover them is to just act.
Even this writing has defined integral aspects of my purpose and identity.
With that, I am going to declare this free-writing exercise a success and recommend you just start writing as a means of releasing whatever might be stirring within you.