The truth

By Romeion Case
(May 15, 2010)

The school’s semester is over and I have to give thanks for the fact that I had a rather productive four months, I believe, and the results should put a smile on my otherwise droll looking face. I’m back in the country now and taking it easy, going to river, enjoying some mangoes and living the tropical life and with this serene atmosphere, I have found some time to sit down and re-examine myself. Life passes by quickly when you’re in college, like an eye-popping up-skirt peep show in a rather boring lecture before she realizes and closes once more the ‘hot gates.’ It is rare in those times to focus one oneself and think about the direction, or lack of it, in which his/her life is heading, the relationships contained therein which you hope would make the trip a bit easier but are disappointed to find otherwise, and the perceptions and idiosyncrasies which make life a bit more interesting.
I have become somewhat perturbed by the ill-conceived perceptions that men have fallen victim to at the hands of women; being nothing more than hormone driven sex fiends desiring nothing more than a physical release implied in the most seemingly innocent of conversations. Of course we disagree on many issues, this being one of them, intertwined with the issue of love.

The problem, I’ve found is that women usually think, naively so, that love and sex and are supposed to go hand in hand. Where on earth did this notion come from? I haven’t . the slightest idea. However, sitting here in the country and observing the life and the harmony contained in the symbiotic relationships with nature, I have resolved to make clear this issue for the sometimes fairer sex, a few notable exceptions being kept in mind (Big Belly Arlene, 1 toothed Daisy from down bottom road, Beulah a.k.a. ‘Rasta Chicken’….to name a few).
The truth is that, for us men, we have a unique and somewhat cynical approach to the ever controversial issue of love. For some it is much like a Facebook status, which every now and then needs to be updated. Yet still for some, and I think I fit more appropriately in this group, it is like a video game; if it poses too many difficulties we get frustrated and abandon it and if it is too easy, we get bored and lose interest very quickly. However, we value it dearly for it’s entertainment value and the fact that in many cases whichever party benefits more, for we know that contrary to popular belief there is no such thing as an equal relationship, we always have one party privy enough to be the bigger parasite, and one gullible enough to be the proverbial ‘giving tree’, has fun. I say this only to stress the importance of enjoying oneself even when it comes to matters that have unnecessary emphasis placed on their value such as love.

So to all my parasites and giving trees out there I say, live good, respect life and while I sip on this coconut fresh from the tree, my one hope is that you’ll embrace truly and dearly that one whom you have found that you can tolerate long enough to consider your social agreement a relationship (You poor saps).
. Read more!

To be read slowly on a rainy day

By: Romeion Case
It’s getting cold.
Why you gotta be here at this hour?
Smiling.
Teasing.
Wilding.
Pleasing.

Been over it many times in my head.
How it begins.
The memories we make.
The rejections we fake.
The short breaths we take as our hearts play a deadly game of russian roulette,
Shivering bodies, quaking in the madness of the moment.

Why you gotta smell like this at this hour?
Like a thousand passionate kisses raining down,
Drowning us in the fervent heat of here and now,
We become our own sacred cow.
Usurpers of our own destiny…our own traitors together entwined, together strong,
We fall deep. Deeper and deeper.
Coup d’état.

It’s getting colder.
You’ve got me trapped in a world of dreams,
. Free of reason,
Free of obligation,
Free of disappointment,
Free of accountability,
Free of burdens,
Free of me.

Free.

Why you gotta do that to me at this hour.
Temptress.
My heart aches from kneeling over the pieces of shattered dreams,
Time was once our friend; but now it just sneers at us, dancing, oscillating, hanging from the musty wallpapers,
It’s getting late.
Why you gotta be here?
I think you better leave me.
Freeze.

I think you better go so I can dream of the things you’re not willing to do to me.
11-08-09
. Read more!