Overrations

A man’s desire is for the woman, but the woman’s desire is rarely other than for the desire of the man. -Samuel Taylor Coleridge

It should be mentioned, before I begin, that this was almost an Emo Vlog; however, those are intended to contain some sort of subtle comedic value and this is far from what I intend to be comic.

What will I not write here to the few who ever bother reading this perversion of literacy that I have already written in a private notebook? Here you will not see salt, scribbles, random words, and pity for the self. Instead you will see swollen orbs gazing down, but forward nonetheless.

Today I walked. I rarely have days where I have no destination or reason in mind as to why I am walking. Like most, I am always coming or going to some destination meant to attain the ends of completion of some daily chore. I remember the last time I felt it would be healthy to walk for no apparent reason to no particular place. As I recall, I did not walk alone on that particular evening. But today I did and that is that. I originally felt that this would improve my spirits. I was, of course, terrifically mistaken.

The hourglass is cruel. It alone has the power to decide if wounds will close, widen, or scar for life. Can I say what I hope the sand will do for me? No, it is too painful to think in the future tense; but I cannot help but think only of the future. I obsessively hope for reversal and renewal, but sadness permeates through the happiness that hope may bring. These thoughts are pointless and make me idle, but they, like parasites, have latched themselves to my mind and feed from my remorse.

The salt often renews the wound, but it is the fear of the wound closing that has the most power over me; therefore, I have a plentiful supply of salt that seems infinite.

I beg not to be kept waiting under false pretenses. I wish not to be taken for a fool. For those are often, in circumstances such as these, overrated.

This, I suppose, is all I have to say on the subject.