Panels 3 & 4. This post is in continuation of this post as mentioned in this post. If you have not "read" my first QBCCC entry yet, then you may "read" it here, as I post er... its colored version. But you will have to wait. Waiting is okay. Waiting is fine. Waiting is--wait, this isn't supposed to be here so
I'll just say that I'll add another tab soon and describe what and why and how the carcosite is. As if that matters to anyone. I'll assume it matters, so I can write about it. We, at times, have to "assume the right to make others think," as mentioned somewhere where someone/s found something/s.
***Beyond this point are more matters you won't give a fuck about. Trust me.***
Everything might be a work of fiction. This is fiction.
I've stopped with my bi cycling, but I am still attempting, but I would no longer tell anyone about it. I have started wandering using spectacles--that I am quite unsure whether those spectacles are mine alone, or yours alone, or ours. And this is what I wanted to tell people about, but I can never ..for now? I am not sure whether it would just be for now or I'll just keep things to my self and this public space; that can shed both light and darkness to what we see and how we see and why we see; that hides under the label of fiction, though all fictional narratives are based, in one way or another, on the "nonfiction" or real time events, which is something hard to tell these days. Anyway, I am looking forward, still, to your looking forward to what stages we have set and what challenges we would take on. Without you knowing that this is about you or without me knowing that you already know that this is about you. OR replace all the "knowing" in the previous sentence with "feeling" and let us see if that would make more sense. And gayness, if that is what thou wilt.
I would like to see things the way I did before--in red and black--which might sound, I don't know, what is the new stereotype associated with those colors these days? emo? vampire? goth? satanic? communist? anarchist? guerilla? poseur? soviet? katipunero? I don't know how I sound like, but I know I want to see how I see before and add neon green or neon blue to it and make things seem more clear and in 3D and in a natural high of actual hyper-reality or post-reality or whatever prefix or pre-word (or whatever word coined by whoever can coin a word) it would take to describe how drugged I feel when I am with you and we see through each others' eyes through each others' spectacles--and in the process, we peek at each others' minds, without knowing what all our encounters and gettogethers are really all about. At this point, I'd rather not know. I would not want to know. Unless you already know and you wanted me to know
and you would understand or, at least, pretend to understand, or let me understand why you do not understand. Weird how this nightmare with you appeals to me not because you are terrible to be with, but because I know this will end in one way or another. I find temporary nirvana in the vagueness of the vision of the future with/out you, though it scares the fuck out of me at the same time. And maybe, since everything dies, I shouldn't worry and I should stop thinking about any death--including the possible death of what we share.