silent soliloquy
As this haze of summer passes in dollops of time, the days blend together in shades of grey. The peculiarities within the still-forming memories are but three, yet so unsettling that I am compelled to make a note of them.
This blending that occurs seems to be extremely uneven, rather like the initial stages of whisking lemon cake batter. Great lumps of sugary happiness appear to disappear; replaced by the sour tang of something lacking, so strong, the aftertaste consumes you. There’s a watery residue too, with the grittiness of dissatisfaction.
On the whole, the mixture looks promising, if you overlook the minor flaws. Well, it can at least pass off for something adequate. But to taste this, to experience it firsthand… The best description would be colour. Grey. Shades of it, so subtle that they’re barely discernible, yet distinct in the feelings they individually evoke.
Perhaps the final oddity noted would be the blanket of dull icing that will eventually mask the shortcomings of its companion, leaving behind an impression (if any), of average blandness. Nothing special, hardly worth noticing. Generally unassuming.
A grey cake of summer, the classic contradiction.
My thoughts go out the window, and my heart goes into overdrive. That’s what happens in a nutshell. Sometimes I blame myself for leading a life led by my heart, but with a conscience that doesn’t make living with the consequences easy.
I thought I know what I want. In retrospect, I think I know what I don’t want, but I don’t know what I want.
Take her from you
What really, truly sucks is that when the one that you love and care for hurts you, you cant turn to anyone to take away the pain. The one who holds that responsibility is that one thats causing the pain, and to turn to them would be an irony that’s almost beratable. Knowingly and willingly bearing this burden speaks of the greatest triumphs and weaknesses of the human mind: that we are both perseverant and self-destructive at the same time.
Perhaps this is the basal reason for independence advocates; that you are completely self-reliant. No one dictates your emotions, how you feel is exactly, precisely how you feel. And not how someone else has made you feel. There exists a fierce joy in knowing that only you have control over your life; selfish perhaps, but then again, selfishness manifests itself in more than one form.
Nursing a wound that you know will never completely heal, sticking with a dream that reality can never quite match up to… It’s a failing of every dependent human. And I fear that we are all foolish, masochistic victims of the same trap.
- Lisa: He's had that stupid thing for 3-4 years and he doesn't even know how to play a single song!
- Glenn: Screw you I can even play the drums on it! (bangs on the body of the bass)
incommutable.
just because i don’t talk about it, doesn’t mean i don’t feel a thing about it.
“guys lets have a vote: who says we should kill the dogs. i just stepped in dog shit AGAIN. i freaking hate them!”
whimsical delusional
its time to get real
now that I’ve seen what this really is, perhaps it’s only from this moment on that I can truly say, and believe, that my mind is made. waiting for what only repeatedly fails you is nothing but setting yourself up for endless disappointment, and that is possibly the quickest path to self-destruction.
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