under the stars in mississippi mud

Earlier I mentioned the idea of two selves existing within my personality, or identity.

The evil self wants to fuck up my relationship with GF.

It wants to have an affair.

It wants to push the emotional  limits of those who surround me: friends, acquaintances and borderline strangers.

It wants to confess, casually uttering, “I don’t give a fuck about your feelings, your thoughts – you.”

It wants to manipulate every situation for its perverse desires.

It wants to turn every interaction into a scene in which the disheveled character comes apart, spilling himself in front of everyone, and through the unraveling he cries, “This is who I am, god damn it! I just want someone to love me for who I am!”

It is never satisfied with peace and contentment. There must be something to obsess about. There must be a situation or potential situation that requires immense anxiety.

It has disgusting sexual lusts, fantasies seemingly birthed from a cesspool of Satan’s hunger.

It wants complete domination in every possible sense of the word.

It wants to defeat the other self.

Before I continue I want to emphasize that I’m not afflicted with hallucinations (visual and auditory), which would confirm a serious mental illness.

The other self wishes to be kind in every interaction it encounters.

It has a bumper sticker that reads Being Nice to People is a Really Good Idea.

It is responsible for my current path: ____ student and aspiring _________.

It wants a stable and comfortable relationship with GF.

It wants to eliminate every trace of the other self.

It wants to find peace from the internal upheaval that seems to worsen with every episode.

It wants peace.

Yet it seems unable–

Or perhaps unwilling to free itself from the other.

It is (has?) accepted that the other self will never be destroyed — its presence is always and must be accepted; it must be fed with the slightest of provisions to prevent total rupture and infection.

It is afraid that an upcoming epidsode could be accommodated by a trigger, resulting in total loss of control. And defeat.

It tries to interact as a compassionate, caring individual, yet the signals come out all wrong. It always gets lost in translation. And I’m seen as… something else.

It’s 3am and I’m outside and under the stars. It’s a wonderfully clear night. Every star is visible. Tunnel Blanket by This Will Destroy You fills my ears. A light yet constant breeze slowly shifts the trees. And I’m struggling to comprehend what I’ve written here. I’ve never categorically deconstructed the motives of the two selves – and what I have typed is far from encompassing. This thing, whatever it is, is indeed real.

WS’s final message struck me to the core. It was the first time someone has called out and executed my deranged behavior.

Yet I think back to her—I see her face (so clearly!) and recall the emotions, the scents, the physical sensation of my hands on her skin. And I’m dumbfounded. How can such a profound experience – made seemingly more profound through the recollection of memory – mean, in the end, nothing?

In many ways I feel as though, at some point during my teen years, I stopped developing emotionally. Or maybe it’s beyond that – my personality stopped developing, and because of that cessation, I’m now diseased by these two selves, or whatever the hell they are, and left to live through some broken, defective motherboard.

Misfiring circuits.

Missed exchanges.

Corrupted data execution.

Something.

t/c/m

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~ by the coordinates of memories on 22 May 2011.

2 Responses to “under the stars in mississippi mud”

  1. Powerful post. I know to some degree what you are speaking of. I too definitely feel two “sides” to my personality quite regularly. There is the “normal”, wholesome, good-natured side. But there is also the darker, subversive, lustful, selfish, contemptuous, vile prick side. My writings about my relationship w/ Kelly in one of my previous responses are a good example of the two sides at odds. And before I continue, I’ll just come out and say it: I cheated on Kelly. With Kaelyn. I might have hinted at that fact when I wrote my response, but in case there was any doubt, let the record show that I did.

    Though I never had sex w/ Kaelyn (we just made out a handful of times), we might as well have. To me it was more about the emotional side of it, and the fact that during the actual make-out sessions and also afterwards when I was w/ Kelly, I just didn’t care about what I had done. I vividly remember one Friday night in particular. Kelly and I had made plans to go see a movie that night after I got off work. All was fine until Kaelyn walked up to my desk that afternoon. In her coy, charming way she asked what my plans for the night were. I responded that I was going to see a movie w/ Kelly. Clearly disappointed by my answer, she flashed me her trademark “puppy dog eyes” and proceeded to tell me that a few people were going out for drinks after work and that she was going to be quite sad if I wasn’t there. To make a long story a bit shorter, I managed to convince Kelly to meet me at the bar for a few drinks before our movie. Mind you, this evening occurred AFTER I had already made out w/ Kaelyn a few times. My desire to spend time with her was so intense, that it didn’t bother me IN THE LEAST if my “serious” girlfriend was going to come face to face w/ the girl I was cheating on her with (Kelly had no idea of any of it of course). Also, in some sick way, I almost WANTED Kelly to meet Kaelyn. I almost had this desire to throw it in her face and make her jealous, like “Look bitch, THIS is what I’ve secretly been messing with on the side. Isn’t she hot?”. And here is where it really gets interesting. So I am sitting at the table w/ my work friends, a few drinks deep, chatting w/ everyone, flirting w/ Kaelyn as usual, when Kelly finally arrives. She sits down next to me, we may have exchanged a brief hello, perhaps a casual kiss, and I go right back to talking w/ my coworkers and flirting w/ Kaelyn. I was almost oblivious to Kelly’s presence to be honest. I remember she would ask me a question, and I would turn to her from whomever I had been speaking to, most assuredly in an fairly annoyed manner, and respond w/ a very short, borderline-cynical answer. Of course after a bit of this kind of treatment, coupled w/ my obvious flirting w/ Kaelyn, Kelly began to get visibly upset. At one point her eyes began to tear up and she excused herself to go to the restroom. Another coworker asked if she was ok, to which I just rolled my eyes and said something like, “Yeah, she’s fine, just let her go”. And while Kelly is in the ladies’ room bawling her eyes out, I’m trying to devise a way that I can ditch my plans w/ her and engage in yet another make out session w/ Kaelyn.

    So what happens? My coworker friend ignores my asshole-ish and goes to check on Kelly. She comes back a few min later and informs me that Kelly is quite upset and that I might want to go talk to her. I waive off her suggestion and go about my conversing w/ the table. Another few minutes go by and Kelly comes back to the table. Her eyes are red and swollen. She doesn’t say a word, just gathers her coat and purse and heads out the door. I could care less where she is going, I’m just relieved that she is gone. After a few more rounds, a few of us decide to head to someone’s apartment (literally right across the street from the bar) for something of an afterparty. Kaelyn and I giddily attend of course, and another make-out session ensues that night.

    I wake up the next morning on my friend’s couch w/ Kaelyn (fully clothed, again just made out, nothing more) and I groggily say my goodbyes and walk out to my car. As the memories of the previous night begin to come back to me, I look at my phone and see numerous missed calls from Kelly. I think, well if we weren’t through before, we definitely are now. I call her on my way home and we talk. I apologize for the previous night and she asks me why I never came home. I tell her that we drank a lot after she left and so I just crashed at Anthony’s since it was right across the street. She asks if Kaelyn stayed there too. I tell her that she did, but that I didn’t really see her much once I got there. She (shockingly) seems satisfied w/ my explanation of things and asks if I want to do something later that evening. Dumbfounded, I say that sounds fine and that I will see her later. We go out to dinner that night, and it’s as if nothing ever happened. She doesn’t bring it up, and I feel no guilt whatsoever.

    I broke up w/ Kelly a week or two after this night occurred. Of course as I stated, my attraction to her had waned throughout the few months prior, but a lot of it also had to do with the fact that I just couldn’t continue to be with someone after I had treated them in such an abhorrible, despicable manner. And though we did get back together for a few months after that initial break up, it ultimately just couldn’t work after that.

    I think back on my behavior during that period of time as probably the most wretched that I’ve ever exhibited to another human being, let alone someone who had told me and demonstrated to me that they loved and cared about me deeply. It still makes me shake my head in disbelief that I was even capable to treating someone w/ that type of disregard. But yet, I was. And that knowledge troubles me greatly.

    I’m not sure if you believe in or give any credence to astrology at all, but I know that you and I are both Geminis. Oftentimes, I have wondered if this innate “twin nature” of the sign plays a role in the two selves that I inhabit. Of course, scientifically, it’s probably all just BS, but I still find the idea intriguing. I also sometimes wonder how deeply my childhood affected my emotional development. I’ve often thought that although my parents’ divorce didn’t seem to have any drastic effects at the time, perhaps it somehow severely altered some vital part of my subconscious. Extraordinarily difficult, if not impossible to ever know for sure I suppose.

  2. I’m not sure if it’s a relief to know someone else’s emotions, especially sexually charged emotions, can get the better of a man, but it does add some needed perspective to the regretful things I’ve done in my life. Through the years I’ve ceased contact with a few friends, and until I read your comment I didn’t truly know the reasons or motives behind those dropped contacts, but I believe I know now – I, essentially, couldn’t maintain the equilibrium of the friendship knowing the things I had done and how those actions affected the other person. The phrase damaged beyond repair comes to mind.
    It’s troubling to know that raw, selfish motives can cause such irrational, loathsome behavior.
    Perhaps it can all be reduced to evolution: those primal urges have been honed and refined throughout thousands of years, while consciousness remains relatively undeveloped; it’s almost as if their coexistence exists not out of necessity, but as some evolutionary byproduct that never linked to form a cohesive consciousness. Or something. I sometimes wonder if consciousness even has the ability to evolve and adapt; if that is the case, I think it would explain many of the growing conflicts and problems that affect this age and time.
    Got off track there, but as always, thanks for the comment.

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