insinuating otherwise

"My concert started 10 minutes ago," she explains as we dig into entrees at Le Pigeon in Portland, Oregon. Never one to force someone into doing something they'd rather not do, "Then leave," I reply. For once in a long while I wanted to dress nice and go out with a beautiful woman to a pleasant dinner. Too much to ask.

Again with this re-connecting to the past; someone I have cared for and still care for yet time has eroded away any sense of association between us. Never one to leave well enough alone, I keep poking the wasp's nest of love.

There is an awkwardness to my movements as I fumble my way through dinner. Not nervous or anxious just a strange disconnect and by the time she passive-aggressively states that this dinner is infringing on her concert-going time, I peer inward and see how very foolish I am.

Having just finished reading Charles Bukowski's The Captain is out to Lunch and the Sailors have taken over the Ship, I resonate with Bukowski's sense that if people will not love you then make them hate you. As of late my writings have reflected this change but fuck the audience. What I write is for me and me alone. If no one reads my words or if they read them just to spite themselves; it makes no difference.

I write for me and me alone. To a friend whose path will never cross mine again, thank you for the good times. I am happy and piss off for insinuating over wise.
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