Brainwaves, senses are magical aren’t they? They dictate how you feel about everything. Every time you blink your senses tell you the world disappears, yet you mind already has a presuposition the the world actually has continuity. Reason itself, is in fact, disgustingly beautiful and there’s no way around that.
Speaking of relationships, I’ve spent the last two months scrupulously speaking sweet swaying swivels of words to a person I should not be doing that with while she reciprocated. Her supposed newfound morals and values into peace and serenity into dully ludicrous displays of an exclusive affection swayed me into participation. But in the end, the were still supposed.
I fail to acknowledge her vilification of love every time, and euphamistically wondered why I sweated to things that boiled like heat waves shimmering above the cement on a hot day. I foolishly wore a coat and refused to take it off. Then when I was blessed with a moment of clarity under the shade, the light of reason glowed on me like light through patches of leaves causing a cathedral effect. I was just a didactic idiot rewriting her erasures for her.
I’m seldomly angry in person, but when I am, there’s good resonance for it. I’ve never been one to play games, but contrastingly understand peoples needs to egotistically present themselves like ladies and gentlemen. To be a higher or upper class in opposition to the actual class they’re in, we’re conditioned this way. But when I’m angry, it is most likely because someone has openly taken advantage of someone more infinitesimal, smaller. In this case, it was me, I wanted to be infinitesimal in order to draw out the more honest truths. Confused with naivety, I was fucked in the ass.
Sure I’ve met, kissed, and ravenously eaten out better and more amazing girls, but I’ve always been led on by an irrational sense of pride. This is someone I’ve promised to dedicate myself to and will look for open windows to climb back in, but reason has stated once again, that this wasn’t the same place I wanted to be in anymore. I’m silly, and an ageless romantic but sometimes, I just have to read the newspapers. I’m going to buy flowers for someone more appreciative and real.
(P.s. apparently, being a moron is only okay if you’re beautiful. Oh woe.)