.gradually we just drifted apart, me on the strict path that a moral society supposedly needs to set as its standards and her on her own longer path to acceptance and recovery. After the visits tapered off and dried up we became better together as friends. As lovers we are poison to each other, but to know that one of the greatest minds and loves that I will ever have is still around makes it ok that we’re friends nonetheless.
“I’ll call you” and “We’ll have lunch” invariably gets delayed and protracted over days, then weeks, months and now years. Sure I’ve run into her every once in a while and we still have that magic spark of electricity when we speak and touch, but it isn’t an all consuming torch or flame anymore. We both know the situation and with more than a little regret we remain close friends. Ex-lovers with a large dancing child and a big elephant in the room, bonding them forever.
Well, I hope this all works out.
Thanks to Neal Cassady—d. 1968
www.whyicommittedsuicide.com
New York • Lincoln • Shanghai
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Paul, Samuel E., 1963-
Why I Committed Suicide or ‘Le Petit Mort’: a sexual double entendre’ that extends from the belief that whenever a man ejaculates and gives himself fully over to a woman he must die a little. When that happens it isn’t so much a tribute as it is a chronicle.
Samuel E. Paul
ISBN: 0-595-32695-1
ISBN: 978-0-5957-7500-2 (ebk)
The dictionary says metamorphosizing is not a word. It should be.
black sheep/beast
A hot-shot is just the slang term used for a really strong dose (usually lethal) of Heroin (or anything) due to the quantity cooked up or a higher purity level. Most junkies die because of a change in the quality of their usual supply. If the quality gets worse, there’s no problem, just a lot of pissed off junkies, but if the purity gets better and someone uses the amount they usually use, it can be too much and kill them. This happens in NY a lot where the stuff from overseas varies in consistency.
The Cat Is In The Bathroom
Apple With Milk Is Good
Let us seize sweet things; for, indeed, after death you will become ashes and a story.
—Persius