I don’t talk to alex_72 anymore. It became that awkward thing where occasionally we would say hello just for the sake of saying hello. We didn’t have words – well, of course we had words, words were all we had. What I meant to say was that we didn’t have a fight. Not exactly. She did say that she didn’t like being an anecdote here. She said that she would read SnappedShots and periodically would find her name and she said she didn’t like being reduced to an anecdote. Now I would get that, I would understand. Who wants to find themselves turned into an anecdote? But she also, mostly, prohibited me from talking about her. So I wasn’t really allowed to mention her much. But when I did, she felt she had been reduced to an anecdote. So perhaps I should have had a go at not mentioning her at all. Or perhaps, since I had wanted to a few times, I should have included some of our dialogues.

I’m still tempted to release our dialogues. Out of bitterness, out of laziness, who can say? What does it matter now? But I suppose I won’t. I promised her her privacy.

The keener among you might think this is some kind of plea to renew our conversation, hers and mine. It isn’t that. It ran its course. I might be able to seduce – perhaps, I do not here submit it for your judgment —, I might be able to seduce with words but you cannot keep with words only.

Meanwhile, and much less intentionally than I ever planned, for eleven months my love, my love life, has lain in state for all the pretty mourners. All my love has ruined where that sharp thing sticking in it rusts. Christ, kid, haven’t we all had enough of that? Knock if off. Walk it off. Get over it. You greedy, vulgar, selfish death-sucker.

Idle hands, idle brain, idle heart. Idol heart. Stone idol. Stone idol heart. I dull stone heart.

SS