13 November 2010

the trouble with my heroes

[click image]


Is that I make them into heroes when giddily in thrall of one or another of their sterling qualities, but then can't close my inner eye to keep them heroic forever. They always end up human and flawed and still wonderful, but usually in ways I can't hang with.

I went immediately batshit crazy for this guy. A maniac! A total slob. I have a long history of love affairs with men who would not get dressed up even for their own funerals. I wonder sometimes if this one will even take a shower to meet the Galactic Emperor. Mox nix. He still blows my skirt up all the way around my ears for the sublimity of his insights and luscious avoidance of the inside of any box, but am forced to recognize him blowing it all to hell with the advent of his stardom, his elevation to Elvis status. Now I catch him making concessions to popularity, to adulation, every time he turns around, and it's so damn disappointing! I wanted him to stay God.

love, 99

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.