something may be missed
Isolation, as it appears to me now, may be a means to an abrupt end. Not one of romanticism, the way we so often read of it, but rather one stained with jealousy. A jealousy of a passing wind through silhouettes of evergreens on it's way to another destination. Or of a soft rain, viewed only from slight angles which show rain passing by the amber face of tall lamp posts. So quickly it drys with mornings first light to pursue another life.
Isolation, personified by such trite prose and un insightful dribble. How am I to believe that this is the only pain the world will ever come to know, my own self-involved dramatic display of hysterics.
This self loathing comes with insatiable thoughts of oneself as the only being with an issue that calls for tears and a lowered head, set to rest in open palms. What if i were seated in front of the eyes i desire to have placed upon me, would I have the words to set things in my favor? chances are my words would be misinterpreted and left for something less than face value. I have settled for something much less. Throwing my thoughts, with the opposite hand it appears, into this modern forum of post adolescent misanthropes who know nothing much of the world, however we all know EVERYTHING about the universe and the way someones else's script should be written. Professional critics we are, isolated we will remain for all of time. We live in a formulaic carefully guided track, which may have separate scenery, but all the same stops. Sip some more, just to get through the day. It helps more than it hurts (with the liver as an exception).
Isolation, personified by such trite prose and un insightful dribble. How am I to believe that this is the only pain the world will ever come to know, my own self-involved dramatic display of hysterics.
This self loathing comes with insatiable thoughts of oneself as the only being with an issue that calls for tears and a lowered head, set to rest in open palms. What if i were seated in front of the eyes i desire to have placed upon me, would I have the words to set things in my favor? chances are my words would be misinterpreted and left for something less than face value. I have settled for something much less. Throwing my thoughts, with the opposite hand it appears, into this modern forum of post adolescent misanthropes who know nothing much of the world, however we all know EVERYTHING about the universe and the way someones else's script should be written. Professional critics we are, isolated we will remain for all of time. We live in a formulaic carefully guided track, which may have separate scenery, but all the same stops. Sip some more, just to get through the day. It helps more than it hurts (with the liver as an exception).