avec moi, sans moi,
Ahh… and the tales I shall unfold
May blast comprehension if the truth be told
An ode to the masters, martyrs and whims
A satyr on life and sullied daydreams
Benjie reclined, dazzled by his own brilliance. If he could but find adequate company for his fathomless, though mainly unhoned, abilities, he knew his elite circle would mutually benefit beyond the realms of comprehension, and spin off into space uninhabitable to the grey multitude. The aesthetic, pole-
His thoughts often did that: they built a fantastic creation that quite over-
Of course, Benjie did have his moments, as do we all, and they were remarkably lucid despite his defensive layers of superficiality and blindness. No, Benjie could not be accused of any degree of insensibility, where he wasn’t simply ignorant. It is said that geniuses merely have their moments of greatness closer together than the rest of us and therefore manage to fit in more of them before they die. Benjie liked to contemplate these subjects, and devoted more time and energy to the process of self-
Benjie was in love. Well, he continually had his little dalliances here, there and everywhere -
She in her turn felt little at all for Benjie. He amused her at times, but so did he antagonise her. He knew this, and chaffed at it, but it served only to make him more self-
Benjie started to lose his charm.
Until he began to react rather negatively, with emphatic resistance to to his feelings for her, which drove her even further away, and made him wilder still. He became an object of interest again, and quite the party animal. He held his lack of the genuine as a beacon to others, and they followed. He was drowning in the quagmire of his love, and finally managed to kill it completely. She was probably more hurt by the episode than he was.
(4th Jun ‘95)