What is your most guilty pleasure?
The thoughts, dreams, desires, wants, lusts, loves and losses of the ones who were not meant to find me.
Those who search me out seem to have a predisposition; they expect things. Want things. Seem to discover that even when they are not being false to themselves and to my surface, that nothing reaches down into their soul and tugs enough to make them believe in what they see.
Innocents who stumble upon my reflections, my conjurings, they are the ones who trust their eyes and hearts. Their visions are the most real and vivid. Sometimes I feel as if they are real to me; as real as they are to them. It is dangerously raw and unshaped. Their awe, their tears, their gasp of disbelief and hope surge through me like the most delicious blood. I almost feel human when they reach out to touch their dearest deepest desires.
[word count = 150]
Those who search me out seem to have a predisposition; they expect things. Want things. Seem to discover that even when they are not being false to themselves and to my surface, that nothing reaches down into their soul and tugs enough to make them believe in what they see.
Innocents who stumble upon my reflections, my conjurings, they are the ones who trust their eyes and hearts. Their visions are the most real and vivid. Sometimes I feel as if they are real to me; as real as they are to them. It is dangerously raw and unshaped. Their awe, their tears, their gasp of disbelief and hope surge through me like the most delicious blood. I almost feel human when they reach out to touch their dearest deepest desires.
[word count = 150]