dissociation's blog

will you take a string?

Recollect me darling raise me to your lips
Two undernourished egos four rotating hips
Hold on to me tightly I'm a sliding scale
Can't endure then you can inhale
Clearly
Out of body experience interferes
And dreams of flying I fit nearly
Surrounds me though I get lonely
Slowly

Moving up slowly

Inertia keeps

She's moving up slowly

Slowly

Moving up slowly

Inertia creeps

Moving up slowly

She comes

Moving up slowly

She comes

Moving up slowly

Inertia creeps

Moving up slowly

She comes

Moving up slowly

Moving up slowly

In my home no chrome as clear as

See me now with my nearest dearest

Been there when I'm over careering

Room shifting is endearing

Between us is our kitchen

Would you found my irritant's itching

Been here before

Been here forever

Moving up slowly

Inertia keeps

Moving up slowly

Inertia creeps

Moving up slowly

Inertia keeps

Moving up slowly

She comes

Moving up slowly

Moving up slowly

She comes moving up slowly

Inertia creeps moving up slowly

She comes

There be no sound in my eiderdown

Awake I lie in the morning's blue

Room is still my antenna in you

Nylon burns the bedspread with two

Gravity's zero see me stall

I bounce off walls lose my footing and fall

It can be sweet though incomplete though

And the frames will freeze

See me on all four's

It's been a long time

I caught your radio waves

I caught your radio waves

Will you take a string

Say you string me along

Say you string me along

Say inertia creeps

Inertia creeps and she comes

Say she comes

Say she comes

Say she comes

Say she comes

-- Massive Attack; Inertia Creeps

isa

six years prior...

iago

"I want no more. I'm through. I'm done. I can't. I won't. I..."

 

"You will always. It's who you are. Your purpose."

 

Most couples had children because they were so in love with each other, they wanted to spread that love on to a new generation. Iago liked to think he was born simply because a family line dies without an heir. From the moment he was pulled from his mother's womb his destiny was set in stone. He was to be like the rest in his family. The watchers, the great protectors, the strong but not-so-silent sentinels. Keep the light from fading and the wings from falling. Something as a child he never understood. Then again there was a lot he never understood. He was groomed from the start. Like some little piece of shit Bichon-Frise. Yip when the fingers snap once. Jump when they snap twice. Or in his case, sit and listen in on this meeting. Notice that board member. Read the lines on his face, watch his brows twitch, notice the nervous constant movement of his hands, see the sweat dripping off his palms. In other words, find the snake, behead the snake, then show the snake off like a trophy. Protect the company at all costs. Such a happy childhood it made. He never blamed his parents, from what he knew of the family, perfect parents was impossible, thank you genetics. "Iago did you try to bury one of the maid alive out back?" They did their best. Showed their 'love' when they could. "I..." Usually when encouraging some odd sort of behavior. "How many times have you been told this? Dirt bumps are far to obvious, but nice job drugging her to avoid unwanted screams for help."

 

That was his pirate phase. Why bury gold? Too cliche. People were far more fun. Dear cousin Abbie was particularly fond of that phase. So cute how one day he ran up to the girl, grabbed her ponytail then pulled a rather large knife out, slicing the mass of hair right off from her head. First thing he did when he got that nice company office was having that chunk of hair thrown behind a sheet of glass, framed, and mounted right on the wall. It's not that he hated her... Completely... He just liked pushing her buttons. Something that never changed, not even with age. That bond of understanding would hopefully keep them from killing each other. She knew what it was like to be groomed for something. While he was supposed to 'protect and serve' and not in the policing way (one of them a cop ha!) She was the future of the company. He was to keep it that way. That's the way it always was. Straight on down the family line.

 

"I'm sick of this."

 

"You have no choice."

 

It's amazing though, how an only child could feel so ignored. As if he didn't exist. That damn company. Father was never home at night. Had to watch the company. Mother was always out in the lime light, had to make sure the company maintained a certain reputation. No television, must learn how to read and understand stocks and bonds. No movies, must figure out the quarterly stats. Sports... Fencing, for some reason playing with sharp objects seemed to be a cherished pastime in this family. Bed time stories were... Interesting. Usually tall tales, and they always came from Abbie's grandmother. Almost hard to believe, almost.

 

He hated his life. Hated the company. Hated his family. Wanted nothing to do with it. Planned on taking off. Figured falling off the face of the planet was a nice option. Must run in the family. He would've left, had it not been for that woman. To this day he had no clue if it she was real or not. He'd been sitting outside, a lit, but barely touched cigarette hanging from his fingers. Why she was there he didn't know. How she got there was even more of a puzzle since the woman seemed to have simply appeared out of nowhere. In the long run it really didn't matter how or why, she somehow seemed to know what was going through his head.

 

"I hate this."

 

"I did too. Just part of the job polichinelle."

 

Why run from a not so bad life. Money, power, voices... It actually wasn't so bad. Sure he still hated it now and then. But whenever he was feeling a little blue he'd just grab one of the sad little interns over at the company, suit them up in a fencing suit and wipe the floor with them. All while insulting and cursing their existence. And when that got boring, he simply pondered if he should move on to a new phase. The Indian phase; scalping an intern here and there had to be fun. Then again he could always just chop his cousin's hair off again. It had grown in so nicely since the last time... Oh the options...

we're all filled with voices; this starts with four.

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms;
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' brow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."
— As You Like It (Act II, Scene VII, lines 139-166)

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