thanks for the abuse

We all have secret stories inside us. I know this. But does everyone find themselves overwhelmed by the stories? Choose reality, the rest is just a figment of your imagination. But, how do I know which story is real? Oh yes, the senses. When I'm with a man, the smell, the weight, the feel of his body on mine - that is real. Food. Food is real. So eat with violence, destroying and devouring flavours. Running. Running is real. The pain. The glory. The beauty. The rush.

The hurt and harm of being human. The small acts of violence and betrayal that we inflict on ourselves everyday. I guess that is reality.

"Did you ever see the pictures of Sheryl when she was younger though?"
"Hmmm?"
"She was stunningly beautiful."
Wife looks through him, eyes of hurt and hate. Waiting. Waiting.
"Okay, shall I get a Thai Chicken wrap before we go? We can split it for lunch...that way I don't have think about it"
He fiddles with his scar, feels for a beat. He had a heart attack last month. There are devices in his chest now. A pump, some wires.

If you want to know what's important to someone then pay attention to what they photograph. Or, ask them? I don't know, seems like sometimes we revel in making things more difficult for ourselves. I am one of those, too polite for my own good. Coffee, quiet pauses, private thoughts, and a beautiful view...1 point for me :).