(no subject)
I seem to believe that beauty is becoming a thing of another lever from my plane.
It must remain out of touch, just barely or by far, because when it comes too close my clumsy fingers crush the life out of it.
When it comes close, now i find myself telling me to back away. remain distant. dont let it die. trap it beneath your glass, never to live, but never to die.
I find i must convince myself of how wrong my thoughts are. there are many forms of beauty and there are surely a few that my brick fingers can handel with minimal damage.
Appearances are so decieving.
I wish you could follow my thought pattern.
It must remain out of touch, just barely or by far, because when it comes too close my clumsy fingers crush the life out of it.
When it comes close, now i find myself telling me to back away. remain distant. dont let it die. trap it beneath your glass, never to live, but never to die.
I find i must convince myself of how wrong my thoughts are. there are many forms of beauty and there are surely a few that my brick fingers can handel with minimal damage.
Appearances are so decieving.
I wish you could follow my thought pattern.