Because fuck you.
Because fuck me.
Because fuck this.
Fuck us. Fuck no communication. Fuck feeling. Fuck no emotion. Fuck no connection. Fuck no effort. Fuck no tomorrow. Fuck yesterday. Fuck today.
Fuck caring. Fuck it. Just fuck it. Fuck it all. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Because life is too short. For hesitance. For pretending. For empty words, empty promises, emptiness.
It’s time for yes. For trying. For living and breathing in every moment. For Baudelaire. For Moliere. For Fitzgerald.
For Guinness. For Diet Coke. For water.
For this. For depth. For now.
For fragments (of which AutoCorrect and Spell Check are alerting me.) For flight. For light. For life.
To breathe. To be. To think. To see. To feel. To hear. To smell. To read.
For fire. For “brave.” For green lights.
And, yes, this is to you. But it’s to me too. And anyone else who may see this. Because it’s a reminder for all of us. I don’t need approval from anyone.
This is the olive branch. Yes, it’s indirect. Yes, it’s passive. You probably won’t read it, nor will you care. But, hey, it’s something.
And that’s what I need. Something. Something tangible. Something worth my time.
I need friendship. Companionship. I need real. I need beer and hugs and an audience, even if it’s just in the living room. I need smiles and tears and kisses. On the cheek. On the lips. Kisses.
I need books. I need sound. I need fear. Real, inexplicable, ridiculous fear. In the form of butterflies on stage, in bed, at the Bleecker Street stop.
Criticize my syntax, my body type, my multilinguist lifestyle.
But be there. Because I’m someone. And you’re someone. And we all need to feel needed. We all deserve to feel needed.
Yeah, I’m tipsy and writing this in an altered state. Yeah, it’s 3:00a.
But this is honesty. And I could wake up tomorrow with regret. But I won’t.
Because I can. Because I need to. Because.