darlings

       


   So I'm sitting here struggling with something I don't need to get out. But perhaps we kid ourselves when we say that we're able to deal to deal with the situation. Surface verisimilitude is dependent on detail and detail can always mask some form of muted substance underneath. We tell ourselves to be strong and we resist opening up because the world is formed in shards and the glass from which it was cut is sharp and unforgiving. That is why we fill our surfaces with detail and sometimes neglect the person underneath. I feel I am almost losing track of the innate which supposedly resides inside of me. I resist thinking and succumb to my cognitive misery only because it provides a brief respite. But this respite is only temporary, I'm still looking for something. Something I will never fully understand until I find it.

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softly and wavery:


all the blue roads lead home 
i can't accept that my lover has passed 
i can't accept that my lover came last