There was once a man who did not understand Society. And when I speak of this man, who regards Society as an unfathomable monster, understand that I am universally speaking of every individual thinker. But there was one particular man, one man among them, who did not understand Society. And what separates him from the other individual thinkers was his unavowed lust for Love, his desire for affection, and his outright honesty in it. He was, in many ways and like other thinkers, a hero. And though his understanding of social Romance may be below par, it cannot be denied that his journey for Love is as Romantic as they become.
Our hero is named Cassidy, and our journey takes us to the bars, pubs, and clubs of America, the raves and hangouts, anywhere there is lurking a girl for our hero's affections. Unlike the other Lovers, looking for a score or a companion, Cassidy was in these clubs and bars because, as he explained to himself many a time, he was human. It wa s his devotion to truth and honesty that made him an unlikely character in this scene. He had no fear, which allowed this truth and honesty to shine forth even in threatening situations. As a career, Cassidy was a janitor. He worked at a mall, cleaning things up, clearing off tables in the food court, picking up garbage. He wasn't bothered by it at all. Making $2.00 above minimum wage per hour, he lived a very restrained lifestyle.
There was one club, Club Down And Out, which was frequented by our friend Cassidy. There were casual contacts here, as well as friends and Lovers made. One man would hit on a woman with, You're fine, I'm fine, why don't we leave this place and do something about it? Cassidy might overhear, and he would be confused. It was completely understood what the man wanted, but the way he presented himself, beneath the shawl of lies, was what confused Cassidy. Sure, it may be true that such pickup lines as, Nice shoes, wanna fuck? among othe rs might be outdated and rarely used. But according to Cassidy, though the pickup lines changed, the attitude was just as antiquated.
Cassidy had heard enough, sometimes being approached by men and women, sometimes seeing men approach women and women approach men, or men approach men and women approach women, and the pickup lines that he had heard were nothing attractive. Some were succesful and some were failures, but they all were full of a superficiality that was completely inhuman in quality to him. The time was to act, and the object of affection was a girl sitting in a booth by herself. She had dreadlocks, thick and natural, which may have been the thing to catch Cassidy's eye. Anything that would separate itself from this unreal reality would be sexy to him. Dreadlocks and a Dead Kennedies shirt. He sat down in the booth next to her. She looked up.
Will you talk to me, because like every human, I long for the physical touch of intimacy, I cherish t he moments of reverence manifested through our acts, I hold kindled affection to be a supreme act of kindness. Will you be one with me, because only my human desires drive me to be with you, one so beautiful and individual as yourself. And you, like me, are only human, so the urge cannot vary greatly between us.
The girl got up from the booth and started to walk away. Cassidy continued talking.
Will you Love me, the way I want to Love you, because your body is the poetry of life, because your face is a gem, because I know that the passion you have is one incomparable. Because, like every human, you are an individual, and I Love you for that.
She was in the crowd, disappeared, out of sight.
Will you give to me that one kiss, that one moment, that one night, so that I can forever remember the smell of your soul, the taste of your body, the lingering desire to forever be in your arms? Will you hold me close so that I only feel your flesh and body he at, so that there is nothing to distract me from the beauty of one so outside of Society's grasp, so that I will know nothing but the pure bliss of yourself?
She had walked ten miles away.
Can I sit here forever, staring into your eyes, not forgetting that there is nobody like you? Will you give me your time, so that I can offer you my body and Love? Will you give me your lust, so I can fufill it and offer you my own? Will you give me the precious pearls of your Mind and body, so that I may give your security in comfort, life in sex, and happiness in existence?
She was in another city.
Will you let me caress your stomach, kiss your neck, nibble your thighs, give to you that one last kiss shared between the angel of loneliness and the daemon of misery? I do not want to be a lost child , looking forever, allowing every flower to pass me by, the indulgence of charity given only to myself, and I do not want to pass by another flower, smelling so sweet in the summer air, just as beautiful as the last one down. To pass one as yourself, to be given to a realm of regrets equally as a realm of mistakes.
She was in another state.
Give me a moment's tenure, and I will give you everything. Emotion like none other, truth inscribed on the long lasting heart of humanity, the tangible pleasures of our reality lighting the candles of our existence. Let me touch your face so that I can show you what I mean. Give to me that one chance of kindness and reverence. Don't let me sink into the dark abyss of nothingness -- I am not a nobody, and I would not want to be passed up. I can give you only what any other human being can give you, Love and desire, fermenting in the barrel of loneliness, given the soft glow and illuminating light of a beautiful and passio nate sight as yourself. And all the Lovers that you've had before, were just as sincere in their sensuality as I am, were just as real in their body as I am, were just as alive as I am here today. Awakened, with lust and vitality, to find something too valuable to give, to find someone too valuable to leave, to discover something deep inside all of us, that makes us all the same, as I desire for your touch in a way that only any other can desire. It is this reason that I ask for you to give me that chance...
...
She turned around from the crowd, and hugged Cassidy. http://www.punkerslut.com
For Life,
Punkerslut (or Andy Carloff) has been writing essays and poetry on social issues which have caught his attention for several years. His website http://www.punkerslut.com provides a complete list of all of these writings. His life experience includes homelessness, squating in New Orleans and LA, dropping out of high school, getting expelled from college for subversive activities, and a myriad of other revolutionary actions.
Author:: Andy Carloff
Keywords:: Romance,Virtue,Romanticism,Romantic,Thoreau,Emerson,Love,Emotion,Society,Thought,Sociology,Mind
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