Sometimes when I’m alone at night I trick myself into thinking otherwise…
Something about disillusionment can be comforting. If you’re not expecting anything, when something does happen that thing is more wonderful. It’s something you weren’t expecting. Like waking one morning to the smell of real, hand made biscuits and gravy that an old woman made specifically for you. Specifically to make your day a good one. At least make it not a bad one. Then you’re looking back on that moment when you smelled it and realized that someone really wanted to make your day great. Gets that little lump working up in your throat if they did it right.
You go back to the disillusioned state when you realize that nothing is ever truly selfless - no matter how close it gets.
You’re driving to work in the rush-hour traffic. Something about the filthy car you’re driving and how your boss doesn’t like that you (used to) put two spaces in between your sentences when you type. Is it incorrect either way? Is it pointless to have so many rules? If you have too many do they start to lose their importance in your mind? Are there too many things we’re not supposed to do? Can’t can’t can’t cannot don’t no. Okay.
I wonder if I started to think about how roses are such weak flowers. The most beautiful of which will wilt and slump if water weighs down their leaves for too long. Their leaves aren’t shaped to let the water drain quickly because they’ve been crafted by something other than nature to be more beautiful than they would have been otherwise. Why do humans always take it upon themselves to try to change things? Is it for the best? Erosion can make beautiful things by destruction. She knocks the water from the leaves as petals fall. Something about no turn signal.
It’s not upsetting, it’s inevitable. It’s bigger than you.
Does your tongue ever search your mouth for a word that could never be there? A word that would fill a void in the place where you hand is reaching into nothing? A word that would bypass every cracked moment and make reality untrue for only a fraction of time? Don’t grit your teeth.
Do you ever watch the slow decay of a thing and wonder why things are this way? Do you ever ask yourself how this harsh world can host anything at all beautiful? Something about running a red light.
The only reason erosion works is because of the inherent weakness in the medium. Something has to let it work. Things always want to break, not stay whole.
There are things people don’t always say, but think, to make themselves believe otherwise. In the end when there is nothing left to erode we are all, altogether, alone. Something about clocking in two minutes late.
You go back to the disillusioned state when you realize that nothing is ever truly selfless - no matter how close it gets.
You’re driving to work in the rush-hour traffic. Something about the filthy car you’re driving and how your boss doesn’t like that you (used to) put two spaces in between your sentences when you type. Is it incorrect either way? Is it pointless to have so many rules? If you have too many do they start to lose their importance in your mind? Are there too many things we’re not supposed to do? Can’t can’t can’t cannot don’t no. Okay.
I wonder if I started to think about how roses are such weak flowers. The most beautiful of which will wilt and slump if water weighs down their leaves for too long. Their leaves aren’t shaped to let the water drain quickly because they’ve been crafted by something other than nature to be more beautiful than they would have been otherwise. Why do humans always take it upon themselves to try to change things? Is it for the best? Erosion can make beautiful things by destruction. She knocks the water from the leaves as petals fall. Something about no turn signal.
It’s not upsetting, it’s inevitable. It’s bigger than you.
Does your tongue ever search your mouth for a word that could never be there? A word that would fill a void in the place where you hand is reaching into nothing? A word that would bypass every cracked moment and make reality untrue for only a fraction of time? Don’t grit your teeth.
Do you ever watch the slow decay of a thing and wonder why things are this way? Do you ever ask yourself how this harsh world can host anything at all beautiful? Something about running a red light.
The only reason erosion works is because of the inherent weakness in the medium. Something has to let it work. Things always want to break, not stay whole.
There are things people don’t always say, but think, to make themselves believe otherwise. In the end when there is nothing left to erode we are all, altogether, alone. Something about clocking in two minutes late.