There's little escape from my black hole of abulia
I don't like my blog . Too many pictures of me. And it's so white and peachy. And the text alignment and size is too weird and big respectively. And if i'm not writing didactic, I'm either too effusive of maunder too much. And i surf at this site too much.
I found out recently things about the love lives of two of my best freinds. It shocked me to the core and i'm really rattled. It makes me think of my own life... and it opens a little black hole of abulia. What the fuck am i doing to myself!?! The little crack at my heart had surreptitiously turned into a dead star imploding at my core. It's destroying me more than the compound sentences are doing to my english.
I miss Tara so much. I know she truly loves me still, and it's a balm to my aching soul. It fends the wraiths that suck me dry. Her reasons were mature and far-sighted. I was simply immature and only interested in the moment. But I can't accept that love isn't enough. It should be the only thing. My quixotic heart denies what my intellect presents, and i know clearly the denial i am trying to believe in. Winson woke me up just now. He is right. She is right. She had the courage to deny her heart but I fear the courage itself may make me lose more than i hope for. And yet, she loves me, and I love her. There is just a state of being, stasis, no direction, movement. We are full of latent intent, but alas that black hole of abulia.
I can't love anyone else. I know that now. After all this time apart, I still cannot think of loving anyone else but her. I can't move the dynamo, I dare not raise the strength, and i do not know her will. But the dynamo continues to emanate such energy it infuses us with bliss... tinged with that nearly undetectable bitterness memories remind.
I may never understand her fear, it perplexed me for the longest time. However I understand my love for her, I will do whatever she desires. I am incapable of loving anyone else.
This is a stalemate. We're all dying from the attrition. I don't even want to start thinking about losing my art, my music, my verve, my muse...
I don't like my blog . Too many pictures of me. And it's so white and peachy. And the text alignment and size is too weird and big respectively. And if i'm not writing didactic, I'm either too effusive of maunder too much. And i surf at this site too much.
I found out recently things about the love lives of two of my best freinds. It shocked me to the core and i'm really rattled. It makes me think of my own life... and it opens a little black hole of abulia. What the fuck am i doing to myself!?! The little crack at my heart had surreptitiously turned into a dead star imploding at my core. It's destroying me more than the compound sentences are doing to my english.
I miss Tara so much. I know she truly loves me still, and it's a balm to my aching soul. It fends the wraiths that suck me dry. Her reasons were mature and far-sighted. I was simply immature and only interested in the moment. But I can't accept that love isn't enough. It should be the only thing. My quixotic heart denies what my intellect presents, and i know clearly the denial i am trying to believe in. Winson woke me up just now. He is right. She is right. She had the courage to deny her heart but I fear the courage itself may make me lose more than i hope for. And yet, she loves me, and I love her. There is just a state of being, stasis, no direction, movement. We are full of latent intent, but alas that black hole of abulia.
I can't love anyone else. I know that now. After all this time apart, I still cannot think of loving anyone else but her. I can't move the dynamo, I dare not raise the strength, and i do not know her will. But the dynamo continues to emanate such energy it infuses us with bliss... tinged with that nearly undetectable bitterness memories remind.
I may never understand her fear, it perplexed me for the longest time. However I understand my love for her, I will do whatever she desires. I am incapable of loving anyone else.
This is a stalemate. We're all dying from the attrition. I don't even want to start thinking about losing my art, my music, my verve, my muse...
Sid found concrete manifestation for abstract/complicated/foolish/affected/inebrieted musings at 10:12 PM
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