Icarus's blog: "Somantics"

It wasn't raining.
All great stories begin with rain.
Horror.
Tragedy.
Film noir.

Smoke rings, and vesper whispers.
Tonight its about the snow.
The stillness that comes with it.
The irretractable boredom.
Sterility, but clarity.

Tonight I was supposed to go to her house.
On some flimsy excuse. On even flimsier words.
Instead I have a thick layer of glass to drive over and the growing awareness of apathy.

Why chase when you can kill?
Why taste when you can fill?

She told me she loved me.
In the most awkward way.
We weren't face to face, sunlight streaming through the window of a diner.
My fingers idling a filthy coffee mug, or yearning for the days when we could smoke inside without a congressional hearing.
It was the other day.
Right after my lunch break.
Back when I was working.

Via text.
I knew the second that I didn't say "I love you too" that it was over.
I still had half a sandwich in my mouth and one arm in my jacket.
Maybe she hadn't heard the news yet.
But I just can't fake it again.

See, that's the thing about men and women.
Men use relationships to get sex.
Women use sex to get relationships.
Men fake being in love.
Women fake having orgasms.
Men who aren't having sex aren't in love.
Women who aren't in love aren't having sex.
I dunno, a standup comedian probably said it better before.
But the truth is out there.
And women have the advantage of being such lithe, coy, masterful liars
that they could fake both.

That's why I never play poker with the women I fuck.
I'll probably learn something I didn't want to know.
Like that look some women have.
You know the one.

Right behind the eyes. That smoldering hotness.
That eyefuck that says "my pussy feels like warm butter"
It doesn't even matter if she says you can have any or not
Because what that look really means
is verbatim
"I've fucked for money".

And I can't resist women who have that stigmata.
Even if they'll cop to it, once you learn it... its just automatic.
Extra sensory.
And its not quite the same thing as putting out after a fancy meal.
This is more base.
Less instinctive, more ... power than anything.

Especially when they ignore you.












I had to think about it for a minute.
But I've never been in love.