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I could say that I was waiting for him. I could say that I lay waiting, naked on our bed. I could whisper sweetly in your ear, that the candles smouldered and the sound of my breathing echoed softly beneath the music. I could trail my fingers across your cheek and down your throat murmering between kisses, that I lay longing for his return. You would wimper, if I told you that my joy and lust were tangible under the candlelight, as he walked into the room. I could say anything... and you would believe me.
Why do you believe me?! Why do you long for the sensual caress of my voice painting your fantasies? How dare you stare back at me like that! You prostrate yourself before me as I speak, drinking my words like absinthe, and I have this uncontrollable urge to strike you! I want to rend that look of obscene adoration from your face, and cast your dreams away!
Can you imagine, my dear? Does it make the blood drain from your face in horror? That I might leave you? Leave you alone with memories of my words. Never again shape your desires with my voice. Vanish completely from your pale life.
Will you miss the sound... the tone? Will you miss the way the words fall at your feet laying paradise before you? How will you ever get used to the absence, the castration of all you hold dear, bound always to wake and walk reality? The decadent gates into the world I created for you, will be closed forever, although you will see fragments of it everywhere. It will haunt you... torture you and I will be far away. I will have forgotten all of this, I will have forgotten you ever existed. You will be married into madness, a cursed sentance trying to regain the illusion, trying to escape the reality. You never will - do you hear me? You never will!
This is what really happened - there was none of the sugar coated, gold tinted, rose coloured embellishment that you cannot live without! When he stepped into the room, I was naked sprawled upon our bed. The light above shone brightly as I half heartedly watched the movie on TV. During the boring parts, I read a dog eared fantasy book, that I'd read half a dozen times before. I looked up at him and smiled, and there were no words, no sweet romance. We didn't fall into each other's arms and become lost within our passion. There was just us, laying there together watching a B-grade movie under electric lighting and synthesised sound.
I live beyond you. I live beyond the way you seek out fantasy and entertainment, finding them inseparable. I see beauty and value in all the ordinary goings on around us. I have no need to create feelings and scenes that don't exist, I don't need fantasy to make my life worthwhile, it isn't my fuel to make it through the day. Not like you. You are pathetic, weak and I have no more time for you.
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"I'm not an artist - I'm a f*%king work of art!"
- Marilyn Manson: (S)aint
"Hold the 'S' because I am an 'aint'"
- Marilyn Manson: (S)aint
"If at first you don't succeed, you're about average... I HATE being average."
- Adam Best
"One must either be a work of art, or wear one."
- Oscar Wilde
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