An Artist Identifies His Muse

Long have I known that I come off as a flirt, oft even when speaking to those I have no such intentions with. I suppose I hadn’t given this much thought until a sense of value I was able to attribute to the consideration by way of a mentor figure—today, as a matter of fact!

And what I discovered is this: language is my muse.

That is whom all this flirtatious activity can be attributed, and why it is indeed so transcendent of specific interactions!

That guy that had looked long into my ground floor apartment window in a seedy part of town, ogling my body much to my appall. Why did, when I finally encountered him in the narrow constraints of the back entrance, did I not tell him off and instead flirted with him?

It was because it was not with him at all but a case of my ongoing attraction and love-play with language!

He was merely the moments vessel through which I was able to connect with that deep-set desire.

I chatted him up just like anyone else for that reason.

At the time I had questioned myself inwardly; did I really require that ego boost of his infatuated eyes as I weaved poetry through his ears?

Fuck no I did not!

Well maybe… but that can now be seen for the minor player it is.

Is it an innate need to be loved due to a cold childhood?

Maybe, but not by that particular person.

And why too has every roommate heard my hearty chortle through the walls, triggered by the presence of no one and no thing?

I mean, sometimes it is a show or something—someone else’s language.

But even then the case can frequently be seen as one triggered simply by the self-pleasuring of thought.

I just love language and I thought you all should know, should I meet you in the street and talk you up, I’m sorry it’s not you, and it’s not even me—my own brooding insanity crackling to the surface—nope, it’s language, the eternal bae.

See even that bit about an “eternal bae” had me going!

What a stupid concoction of this omnipotent power.

god bless Her.


I would be remiss to omit that this can sometimes be hijacked.

When someone flirts back, that is. Without realizing it I end up in these spiralling situations where the intent changes unbeknownst to me and suddenly I am in trouble with my partner!

Well, now that I know who I’ll be with forever (re: eternal bae), I need not fret nor frown about such instances. I will simply understand my true calling to the moment, take a deep breath, and not damage any commitments I’ve made. And for this reason she, and She, need never question where my mind goes at those times, and we can all be happy together!

But would you call it monogamous? Ahahaha, that’s not one I care to hassle out the answer to.

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