It’s not like I have to be around him or any sort of emotional or supportive companion all of the time. It’s actually not a seldom event the one in which I am a genie among peers or associates. I guess right now I am referring to the point of solitude I manage to achieve between my several compromises. Today, I got to be. Yet I am forced to think, and to listen.
So I listened.
I could say I discovered how strongly I can be driven by inertia in the sense of running away from it. By listening I acknowledge once more how unsettled I am, and how much. I lust uncertainty, even to the point of danger. It’s probably from that where it derives my masochism, and maybe infrequent episodes of depression, accidents, helplessness, excess of happiness, and so on. My point is that, in the search of uncertainty juxtaposed with the search of stability by pretty much the rest of the world, I refuge in myself. The headache cuts the flow of self endorsement and I am forced to face the opportunism of the figure known as the other. Funny thing, because she shows up once my working memory starts to fail and I will deal with the issue of confronting a person.
It’s a hyperbolic scheme. A person in front of my eyes and it’s impossible to gain the minimal focus on myself. My only exit is to let me go into the eyes of the one in front of me. An inquiry thus becomes a quarrel for the part of my soul living in the guts of the interlocutor.
A glance, then, is an act of admiration. A kiss, is a demonstration of spiritual want. And, a sex, well, a sex is…
No comments:
Post a Comment