Sirena Lyte

by Horror Sleaze Trash on December 1, 2011

“I keep a little book of wisdom on my desk at work because I like to read. Immanuel Kant once said “Experience without theory is blind, but theory without experience is mere intellectual play” I enjoy a mind that meets my own with expression that causes some sensation.” ~ Sirena Lyte

LOOSE When I Drink

I got told by this guy once that I get loose when I drink.

It bothered me some and not just cause I had been sleeping with him at the time

Looking back now I realise the guy was nothing more than a narcissist, an insipid middle aged man with no real redeemable qualities. My girlfriends use to refer to him as “The Prawn” …. you know the type …. you gotta tear their heads off first in order to appreciate their beauty.

Anyway, I can remember how the innuendo of his words weighed heavily on me, (heavy enough for me to still be thinking about it after all this time)   How the stigma of being shovelled into that class of lady, that “caste” of woman who would gracelessly sell her virtue, her control for the ale of no control at all, hurt me.. stuck with me.

See I’d always considered myself a colourful drinker someone whose ability to summon the 101 personalities they got goin on at any one time could light up a room …. be the red in the social painting so to speak.

But I went ahead and gave up my will to this “Prawns” opinion that night, parked my car to the side of some road and allowed myself to be taken amidst his dishonourable swell.  Had him handle me the same way he had all those others, all those other pretty little ditties who had walked willingly through his revolving door years before me.   And  I was reminded, in those moments before,  of what it was going to  feel like to be treated not as a lady, of what it felt like to be no woman at all.

I occasionally feel traces of that “woman” from time to time, the one who gave up amidst a middle aged mans swell.  She is often present teetering on the edge of stumbling through some other rabbit hole.  I use to think the impressionable weren’t weak, weren’t defected in some way.  I use to appreciate those who deterred not from cultivating their curiosity cos like Alice I use to have a mind curious in nature.

“The Prawn” still passes me  from time to time and I often find myself wondering in those moments, as the loose change jangles away inside his  stiff, dry-cleaned pockets as though announcing to the world,  “I am here, look upon me  in all my greatness”,  whether the guilt and vexation that rushes over  me still transcends my physical.  Whether I wear my moral vexation like poorly crafted patchwork for him and all others to see?  That’s when I gotta remind myself, when I do reminded myself of all the ways I’d be selling out, of how I’d be experiencing the worst kind of spiritual deadness if I bought into another narcissistic, contrived and fcked up opinion.  Of how, in the same way Creedence cited those silver spooning folk in ’69, I’d be selling the worst type of drama.  Of how, if I chose to stumble again, I’d officially become one of those long gone to help themselves.

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