Sam Paul - Why I Committed Suicide

When it’s desperate love, it’s powerful. I’m never sure she’s entirely there with me or if it even matters to her during those times, I’m just thankful to be a part of it. It’s less intimate and far more powerful but still I envy how easily she can immerse herself in pleasure. There is always a part of me that stays aware, never wanting to be compromised. My old theatre teacher taught me that I can give 99% of myself into any character I choose to portray, but holding onto that last 1% is critical to maintaining who I am and I’ve never been able to let go of that lesson. I want to learn how to walk the tightrope without a net from her. I want to use her and be used by her. I want to want to.

Today we were walking across campus together, flirting and goofing off enjoying the beginnings of spring. Somehow we got on the topic of my baggy shorts so I felt obligated to demonstrate how they can just fall down when I walk. She really laughed when I showed her and added some sound effects and it made me feel good to hear her laugh. She has such a musical snicker that makes my heart soar. It was such a stupid, silly thing but I would play the fool for her forever if I could see the simple joy that spreads across her face time and time again. It’s been almost a year since we met now and I fall more in love every day even in the midst of our weird life. I hope we’re still goofy in love when we reach 60 years old. I wonder if our obligatory suicide pact will still be in necessary by then? The world seems to have a tragic history of beating true lovers into dust. I’m going to stop writing for the day now lest I delve into speculative darkness. The sun is shining and I’m happy in love. Nuff said.

We’re bound for Mardi Gras for a couple of days even though I suspect Fat Tuesday was earlier this week. It doesn’t really matter, the cold and rain and dreariness drives us, compelling us to roam. We have our fair bit of drugs to do and we are all looking forward to a relaxing free-for-all weekend. Jim and I tried really hard to get Dan to go with us but apparently something weird happened to him; therefore, all he’ll say is “Fuck Louisiana.” I think he got popped for a drunk driving charge or something. I happen to love the state so maybe I’m biased to its true colors. I know the political system has a long history of corruption and civil rights violations. It’s going to be mine and Jenifer’s first Mardi Gras together and Jim has even never been to New Orleans at all so he’s excited. We’re prepared for an uncomfortable sleeping situation in Jenifer’s car, all the hotels/motels/B&B’s are always booked months in advance, but we’re all stir crazy enough to do it anyway.

Some of my Delta Lodge compadres are also supposed to be down in the Big Easy but I’m sure it will be impossible to find them in the crowds. Another friend, Sam Escobar (Hispanic Sam), lives with his brother down there someplace in the city but I didn’t ask anyone for directions, which was pretty dumb.

Today has just been a slow meandering road trip through beautiful South Texas and Louisiana. Everything is starting to blossom in the swampland along the roads, turning the constant decay into a beacon of new life. There is a good vibe in the car thanks to liberal pot smoking, freedom and camaraderie. Good tunes always help too. Smile.

.breathe

Mardi Gras was great and it wasn’t. I should say that New Orleans was fun but Mardi Gras wasn’t there. No, the event wasn’t cancelled or kidnapped by masked bandits; we were just a week late, missing Fat Tuesday by a few days. I expected that the city would continue celebrating even after the weekend of Mardi Gras, but apparently the revelry really does officially stop after Tuesday. Oh well, we had to show up late due to tests at school so I’m not mad at fate, just disappointed and Jim didn’t get to see the craziness that Jenifer and I talked so much about on the drive down. Of course we still had a good time goofing around the dirty streets of the city and seeing the sites. There were still some residual lingering crowds from the festivities but for the most part we got the chance to appreciate New Orleans as it exists during the rest of the year. I haven’t seen a more beautiful city on Earth to walk in at night. The yellow light bulbs try their best to cut through the thick moist darkness and insects. The wet streets and the misty airs of the morning time linger with the scents of a different time; the whole city is all so beautifully old and mysterious with its ornate houses, above-ground cemeteries and romance tinged with a taste of too many Anne Rice novels. The French quarter gives off the sense of beautiful corruption that spans the centuries. A city of old money gotten God knows where and dangerous seediness lurking in a labyrinth of alleyways. It would have been wonderful to be brought up here and born into some of the secrets that seem to lie just beneath the good natured surface.

We explored the red-light district, of course, on the trail of William S. Burroughs and good drinks. We walked a lot and looked deeply at the intricate ironwork of homes and churches, while the buzz of alcohol and marijuana tinged the air with good nature. We were just fitting in and keeping conversations to a minimum with the grumpy locals who were tired now that their city of sin had just spent itself. All in all, I guess we didn’t really do much this weekend other than sneaking in and around the dispersing crowds, living Cajun style and feeling good. Jenifer won some money on a video poker game that she took over while I was playing it at a bar. She won about thirty clams and we would have won more except we didn’t think the machine actually paid out real money and we made some radical plays with the cards, still it was a nice bonus.

Jim didn’t seem to mind that we missed Mardi Gras and we kept him drunk on beer from different seedy bars. We all just had a good relaxing weekend away from home and revitalizing the youthful spirit in our blood. It was similar but more realistically pleasant than our usual excursions where we just trip acid and go lay on embankments under the highway listening to the roar of cars and watching the deafening stars. This trip’s been a good bonding experience with lots of Denny’s food and a nice groove. This time, my weekend in New Orleans was more how I envision Paris must look. Pleasantly damp and very romantic, there are probably more opportunities for sex in Paris I suppose. But sex is not everything and it isn’t as important now that I sometimes get a lot of it. It is her that matters more than any cheap fuck.

Jealousy is just another form of pride.

Hello love. It seems like I am not writing as much when I’m not out and about in the world traveling. I’m coming to realize my life is complacently routine. I am trying to enjoy these times for what I perceive them to be, a pinnacle in my life. Looking back through the ages and pages, I understand that if I were writing anything other than truth, the introduction of an antagonist would be necessary to capture the wandering attention span and yoke the train of consciousness writing style I’ve adopted. I’m just being me and enjoying things, what can I say? I will give an overview for my own posterity. I suspect that one day, when I reread what I have lived through, it will be very important to remember these so-called simpler times. Is that a foreboding prediction? Only time will tell me the answer I guess. Enough with the Eastern mysticism for now though.

My plant is growing tall and true. Actually plants plural, but one is a lot smaller and will soon be condemned to the wilderness of my backyard where its fate will be decided by limited water and the cruel sun. At least it will get the chance to live. It’s funny, but the simple execution of a plant would make me feel guilty, far better to let fate dictate its slow death. I’m pathetic in my condolences. The planter in my closet gives off a nice moist earthy smell that I find pleasant but the ever-increasing warmth of early spring might make the sense of humidity overwhelming. There is no AC back here in my room and every extra bit of heat is a liability.