2.16.2010

NV

it gets you when you least expect it. it waits for the perfect moment, finds your weak spot, and soon enough you can't escape. the weight is nothing at first: a misty, insubstantial wafting of feeling centered somewhere above your left shoulder. but every day you feed it with your furtive glances through narrowed eyes, it grows heavier and stronger. soon you're hunched under the pressure, panting along beneath the load that digs its claws into your shoulder and whispers bitter diatribes incessantly in your ear. as your spine strains under the burden, your fingers begin to brush the ground -- that ancient, barbarous, ancestral mode of mobility that echoes the savage vein your thoughts travel in. you become hunched, harrowed, and sadistic. that little green monster on your back becomes your lifeline, your obsession, your blessed mentor. under its brutal tutelage you learn hate of the pettiest kind and parrot its illogical teachings to all who listen, spreading rumors, scorning smiles, launching fiery glares at your target, and hoping they actually care, gnashing your teeth all the while. and when your target steps out of range by simple indifference, you turn your darts inward with canniballistic zeal. your target now impervious in its distance, you begin to apotheosize, believing you will never be as good as they are, and seeing their status, lifestyle, friends, possessions - whatever made them your target in the first place - as the ultimate treasure that you can never attain; an ambrosial happiness that can only be looked at and longed for from the outside. and your worth becomes nothing, and the now monstrous creature you nourished with your envy looks on with glee as you dwindle into a shadow of yourself, grim and animal-like and shriveling in your misery. drowning in your self-depracation, your skin adopts a greenish hue, your greedy fingers become claws, and your appetite morphs parasitic and you crave nothing more than another's self-destruction. 

hero -- regina spektor
knife -- grizzly bear
my maudlin career -- camera obscura

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