THE TRUTH.

Jacques Derrida once said (maybe he says that a lot, but I’ve heard it only once, so it’s ‘once’ to me) that in order to reveal oneself completely, one has to turn ‘indecent’ a little, because ‘decency’ is nothing but a different way to spell ‘diplomacy’, and I guess I’ve been diplomatic all along, or at least the whole of my previous post. Being tight-lipped, cryptic, unwilling. I found I can’t stay like that for long, I’m not a gentleman you see, so I find I’ve got to get home soon, get back to being what I am: Indecent.

The previous post was about how ‘she’ is the one who takes me through days, through nights, through tight spots, and even free rides for that matter. Well, I wasn’t lying exactly, but I sure was being off-track, saying stuff that’s slightly far from what I wanted to mean and that’s basically a precautionary measure, because it’s not my interests that I want to safeguard, I guess I don’t want to taint anyone. But I find that in the process of keeping the city clean, I am the one who’s rolling in the mud and playing with all kinds of shit, and I think it’s time, I think it’s time to clean myself, not at the expense of the rest of the world, but yeah, I need to rid myself of some dirty, prickly conscience, so here’s my bath.

I didn’t meet her, at all. What happened can hardly be called a ‘meeting’, I mean, I doubt if you ‘meet’ everyone you see face-to-face, I’d then be meeting a million everyday and that’s absurd, really, because I find myself to be someone who meets no one but myself comprehensively every day, and anyway, I didn’t meet her at all. But she’s amazing, beyond doubt. Made me wish I could write like her, and perhaps that’s just because I read the whole of her in a day, and what I read could’ve taken her a whole year to write and in that case I’m always the faster writer, which adds to my productivity in a big way, but she is amazing. She shook me. And I wasn’t certain about my sanity over the next hour, or the hour after the next. No, I’m not lying, it’s just… been a while, you know. Maybe I’m hyping her up, maybe I’m completely understating her, making her sound cheap, but I don’t know. I don’t know, man, I need some help over here.

Someone told me I’ve a tabooed age I need to look out for. I see no point, really, I think I do what I do because I see sensibility in it. Leaving aside the fact that me being liked is a joke in itself, I think being liked by someone younger than me is something that needs to be thought about, I personally think there’s a slavish accompaniment in the way girls like stronger ‘men’ or bigger boys or similar people, you know. And I can’t bring myself to being that, I doubt if I can ever be an idol, I don’t want to be an idol, I just want to be recognized for just what I am, and I think she’d give that to me. My ‘taboo’, you know. There’s never a gradient separating her from me, it’d no longer be an overall cuteness, or handsomeness or colour of my eyes, or the way I write, I think it comes down to just one thing. Honesty. And I would give anything for some honesty in return. I think that’s it, that she’d like me for being honest, for being frontal, straight-forward, yet insightful, and giving her everything she’d like, enjoying every little thing she does. It’s cool, you know, very… Jazzy. Me being dreamy-eyed while she sports a half-smile, showing an inside in conflict, both admiring me and well as staying cynical, emotions hiding behind a pair of dark glasses.

And I’d do anything for that half-smile. And though the glasses are sure an allure, I would only be more glad if she smiled without them.