processing…

‘did kansas enjoy herself last night?’ i heard maxwell whisper to maxine.

i replied as if he had asked me, trying to hide my giddiness – ‘i enjoyed every fucking minute of it.’

he turned to me, ‘what about it did you enjoy?’

at that point, my mind was still trying to sort that out. it was still all so fresh and new. i eventually spit out a few words to keep myself from looking foolish, but i wasn’t able to express all the emotion swirling through my head – ‘all of it, the process, the feel…all of it.’

the process. the process.

the ritual.

the ceremony.

the formality.

the thought before the act.

my love for riding a motorcycle stems from these exact things. gearing up is just as enjoyable as flying down the highway at 100 miles an hour. you cover yourself in heavy black material to shield your body from the world around it.

i love process, that is why i love writing. and cooking. and learning. it is all the process that builds upon itself.

layer upon layer.

once our layers were in place, i was fucked anonymously. my features did not matter. i became a quivering mass inside my case. an object, a plaything.

after a while we lay there panting, removing everything with the carefulness in which we put them on. shedding layer after layer.

and all the coldness and anonymity was cut by the pink mass that became our bodies as we drifted to sleep.

we shed our black skin to find ourselves a bit more human than before, with limbs intertwined and smiles and love and warm contact and affection.

i love process. i love gearing up.

~ by kansas on December 7, 2008.