Attraction, I'm Afraid.

The sound of the lighter. The thumb raw from trying. Bubbling, so obnoxious like a bath, but the body isn't submerged, just the mind which is becoming less and less a pure and extraordinary thing. Then the breathing. And the repetition. And that bathroom wall. "I will myself to stop." Now the eyeliner has no color. But her nose has been looking red. Can't say it's from the outside. This is you. Can't blame what you see. Though what I see seems to be feeling less and less. And the skin is so pale. And it smells like shit. No I don't want to smell. Don't bring it to my nose. I said no. No I said it smells like shit I said. And they were fucked up all weekend. Like she was fucked up each day. I've tried for years not to be judgmental. And the best I can do is separate desire from a friend. I'll be a friend but you can't attract me. And what attracts me is the desire to be grounded, ambitious. I'm not talking about jobs. But yes, maybe what I mean is the job for yourself, the job to be good, to have a clear mind, the desire to teach yourself things, everyday to be thinking, to not always be escaping into a drug or a party. I cringe at my judgment, knowing no one is perfect, and knowing I don't want myself or anyone else to be, but I'm afraid consciousness attracts me and escapism is in no way what I am pursuing, even if I leave town every month and I write "fiction" everyday.