que shiraz.

i think i finished what i've been working on since january seventeenth. it took four and a half months to materialize the emotions, words, and results which would then become the final product. i put it down for two or three months, and recently picked it back up again, and finished it. it needed to be extracted from me like venom.

i sweat this shit out like heroine.

i wonder what she would say if she read it. undoubtedly, it would come off as unfair. it's just my side. and i never saw her side of things, except when they were my side of things, maybe. it's so much behind me that i can't even remember. it's the saddest shit in the world, because i can't even place a moment in time where we were really in a bad way. the fact that it takes so little to qualify The End. i had to cauterize everything that was there. all the nerve endings, and all the memory-transit sealed shut.

i never dream.
but i did last night.

i went to a pub. it was mid day, all the sun coming through the tinted windows as filtered lighting. there was a host stand near the end of the bar where jimmy stood with a guy who had a short clippered blond head of hair. there was a girl there, too, but she was just a mental decoration that i must have thrown in for an ethereal form of feng shui. i asked jimmy if i could see the test that tina took. the other guy, i'm thinking he felt like a brother, or a best friend, started foaming something through grinded teeth. jimmy started writing on a piece of business paper, handed it to me, and then said, "i'm sorry, is it just me, or did i just steal your girlfriend?"

you'd think i'd be a puddle on the floor at this point. but instead, i laughed, said, "ha, shut the fuck up. let me just check this out." like i knew this guy. he hands me a piece of paper with jumbled words on it, and i don't even know where to start. the first one says, "L S T H". there are four more puzzles on the paper, each one adding an additional word to the mix. i just said, "aaight."

we ended up continuing to talk for a little while, at one point, even going so far as him showing me a voice mail that he received in november from her. it was just the sound of a voice, because in the dream, i wasn't about to craft a full voicemail in a voice i haven't really heard in months. so instead, i was just given the vibe. it was more or less the kind of message you leave someone when you're overwhelmed with emotion when you see/hear something that reminds you of them. the kind that you keep hidden away so well, that you don't even know it's there.

yeah, in my dream, maybe in real life, she left him that kind of message.
i was fine with it.

maybe it's just time.
maybe it's what i wrote.
something culled this dream out of me.
but that dream was the nail in the coffin.

it's over.

another dream i had before that
was protecting a military general's
reputation in the face of a wave of undead.