We all have our ghosts. As much as I adore rationality, it is my most haunting one yet. Simply because I am shaped so much by it. We infer escapism to combat for a breath of air, whether you paint, jog, dance, drink or fuck, we all have our escapes. My indecisiveness has caused my adventurousness, but to me, that simply means I cannot commit. Rationality always creeps in at night, and I become a clairvoyant visage for despair and or mischief.
I have books on movie comedy next to Anna Karenina and Atlas Shrugged. Among my cd’s, I keep my soul next to the blues. I laugh when I’m supposed to cry, and laugh at even that. Oddly enough, I know you’re the same way, dear modern lovers.
I’m starting bartending school soon, and have started a book club. I’m growing tired of thinking and having courtroom debates in my mind, its quite crowded and hard to breathe.