(no subject)
He's "torn between guilt and lust."
I don't seem to understand his turmoil.
In the confusing world i inhabit, guilt is something suffered only when deception has been unmasked.
A survival tool.
A package presented all tied up with a pretty bow to lessen, or distract from the pain of another involved.
A disraction, a diversion.
Regret...now that's another thing. A rare thing though.
Love and lust.
I have either loved many many men, or i have never loved at all. I thought i fell in love easily...maybe that's not the case.
I have two boxes. Both beautiful. Both, it seems, decorated with shining gems and precious metals, intricate patterns engraved on to their surafaces.
Closer inspection shows that one of these boxes is as rare, unique and priceless as anything that anyone has ever set eyes upon. The kind of trinket that pirates would kill for. The kind of trinket passed down generation to generation.
The other is crass, gaudy, cheap. An imitation of beauty, but still pleasing to the eye because the light reflects shimmering colours and sparkles. Pleasing because it's affordable. Pleasing because it doesn't matter if it gets damaged or lost.
One box could be treasured forever. An item of wonderment, constant joy and pleasure, a keepsake.
The other, a magpies dream.
I darent open either as i think i know the answer already.
If that's the case, then why have i never loved? Why has my mind tricked and decieved me, led me into a maze and left me at the center to wander out slowly, each step closer to freedom i slowly fizzle out and then i die as i reach the end of the journey? To go through such emotional wreckage for nothing.
For a magpies dream which begins once again.
Blindfolded, led to the center, released, battle my way out, only to be blinfolded again...but blindfolded willingly, blindfolded by myself, blindfolded with a wry smile on my face.
I'm nearing the outskirts of this labyrinth.
It was here i happened upon my two boxes. Dreaming, only to awake and find yourself in a dream.
I don't seem to understand his turmoil.
In the confusing world i inhabit, guilt is something suffered only when deception has been unmasked.
A survival tool.
A package presented all tied up with a pretty bow to lessen, or distract from the pain of another involved.
A disraction, a diversion.
Regret...now that's another thing. A rare thing though.
Love and lust.
I have either loved many many men, or i have never loved at all. I thought i fell in love easily...maybe that's not the case.
I have two boxes. Both beautiful. Both, it seems, decorated with shining gems and precious metals, intricate patterns engraved on to their surafaces.
Closer inspection shows that one of these boxes is as rare, unique and priceless as anything that anyone has ever set eyes upon. The kind of trinket that pirates would kill for. The kind of trinket passed down generation to generation.
The other is crass, gaudy, cheap. An imitation of beauty, but still pleasing to the eye because the light reflects shimmering colours and sparkles. Pleasing because it's affordable. Pleasing because it doesn't matter if it gets damaged or lost.
One box could be treasured forever. An item of wonderment, constant joy and pleasure, a keepsake.
The other, a magpies dream.
I darent open either as i think i know the answer already.
If that's the case, then why have i never loved? Why has my mind tricked and decieved me, led me into a maze and left me at the center to wander out slowly, each step closer to freedom i slowly fizzle out and then i die as i reach the end of the journey? To go through such emotional wreckage for nothing.
For a magpies dream which begins once again.
Blindfolded, led to the center, released, battle my way out, only to be blinfolded again...but blindfolded willingly, blindfolded by myself, blindfolded with a wry smile on my face.
I'm nearing the outskirts of this labyrinth.
It was here i happened upon my two boxes. Dreaming, only to awake and find yourself in a dream.