| | I know what I feel like doing.
I feel like walking down some street in Venice with my other. I suppose it is different every time I picture him, but now he has long white-blonde hair and gray eyes. I suppose this is what I dwell on when I daydream, a certain scene that I play over and over again in my mind, because it seems perfect and tangible. I must admit now, on this day, there is a rather sick feeling in my stomach. The future is blurry, this is a labyrinth of sorts but it is all gray. Realizing that I've never really talked to anouther human before with them understanding every sound that came out of my mouth gives me a sort-of sickening feeling, but then I keep telling myself it is a matter of years.
So fear makes me sick, fear makes me angry. It is hard to see the true colour of skin. Anouther one of those moments where I feel like never being looked upon again, because it would be so much more interesting if I was never seen.
The scissors would cut my ties, one by one. I would look on, and it would be quite painful, I can imagine. Goodbye her, goodbye so-and-so. The once golden strings would fall burned to the ground.
Just looking at these situations make me sick. In no other way am I so condescending, naive, and selfish.
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| | Posted 12/30/2005 11:11 AM - 1 View - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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