Tuesday, November 13, 2007
escapism.
of love of hatred of romance.
of work of studies of pretense.
of me of you and of me again.
there are just so many things in the world i wonder about, and that's just one of these many things. it's a question i place at the back of my mind. i never want to face it head on, but it's always there, lingering on, loitering around, always haunting, never leaving. it's on every face i see, in every word i say, with every person i meet.
and then i realise it's just a mental disorder.
a disease.
an illness.
a thing in the brain.
but how do you extract something from your brain? how do you go about doing it? where do you start? four inches left of the right ear. and two inches down. it's sitting right there, at the back of my mind.
do you have a scalpel?
sprayy`
+ 3:05 AM