The Metaphysicist (Kill Your Darlings) | Featured

breathe on my neck

I don't know if I should be wary around Lucien now, as he almost fucking kissed me in a library where anyone could see, and though he didn't, the intentions were clear in his eyes, but they may have been overpowered by the effects of tantalization, and Lucien is the biggest tease I know, so that's more plausible than his desire to kiss me.

But beside the teasing aspect of his character, anyone could see the contemplation wading in those ocean eyes of his, just waiting to expel their true goals onto me yet reserving themselves still, because they were scared of how I would react, as I was already plagued by nervousness in that moment, having been pinned to the shelf by a boy who wouldn't stop staring at me. Does Lucien actually like me, or is it a ploy to support his own ambitions?

He was originally on the hunt for a book to use in an article while I was on the hunt for him, and then he appeared in my sight all of the sudden with a kiss the salient priority on his mind, yet he had picked a book also and gave it to me only when we were an inch apart so as to fool me, so does he just like to be extravagant, or did he panic at the last second and really did want to kiss me?

I can't decide yet, because after he transported the research material to me, he was sashaying through the aisles to return to his work of cataloguing items at the desk as if nothing had ever happened between us at all, as if he were solely a librarian to me and nothing more, because his job of helping me find a book had been completed, and that was all that he needed to do for a library patron. I'm thankful for his assistance, though, for I now have a suitable topic for an article, and I will be out of my funk by this afternoon.

Lucien had selected a book on the history and the aftermath of capitalism in countries other than our own and partially in America as well, but we're still frozen inside of that economic system, so we can't really speak from the beginning to the end for ourselves, but history repeats itself, so there's bound to be striking parallels even in countries halfway across the world.

Lucien's choice surprised me, because though he is very vocal about his opinions, he elects to stay on the side of philosophy where things are amorphous, never dipping his toes into the hellfire that is economics, because those parts of human civilization are terrifying and arbitrary and convoluted and totally disparate from Lucien's spirited disposition, but he may just be testing what I know about capitalism and how my views of it manifest in the article.

I could receive lots of backlash for this, losing some readers along the way if their conservatism is more important to them than the artificial knowledge they crave and find in my articles, but writing is all about backlash. My drafting process is logging powerful words into my computer and hoping they'll ignite a riot among the insufferable bigots, just as Lucien would do, but I never forget that my words are my own, and I can do whatever the hell I want with them. They don't have to be grandiose displays of pretentiousness, nor docile entries with tiny blips of opinions dispersed in there so that I'm not slammed by a suburban dad for being one of these stupid liberal youngins. I am free in writing, so if I lose readers because of this, then that's perfect for me, as I receive enough comments anyway. Conservatives are a waste of my time, and I require respect for my words on a terrain that is my own and can be abandoned if one doesn't enjoy what I have to say.

I'm going to be brutally honest with my article, as any writer should. Being behind a computer screen offers me a chance to say whatever the hell I please without worrying about a fistfight with people who can't fucking accept it and will never grow past foolish children whose cynicism, even with its general center of humanity, is still only pointed to one human. I can't be bothered by people who think that their crusty conventionalism is relevant on a slate that is purely my own, and I will state my opinion without glorifying theirs for being so ludicrous by simply existing in my temple, and though that sounds narcissistic, I've had enough people chastise me for vocalizing what I think is morally right, and now it's my time to shine upon my platform of thousands of people whose silence is mandatory in this theater. It's time to be free from my restraints of anxiety, and it's time to say something.