response on romance:
I understand that my views are counterproductive to "the real thing". I don't even know what that is, or if I would recognize it if it came along. For all I know it has and I've missed it.
but what of it really? It is something that I have limited control over, and am not willing to put a lot of effort into at the moment. I have traded it for self preservation at the moment. I put too much of myself into the last one... and now I know it. Compared to life and death, it was a pointless venture in my mind. A waste of time.
The future?...of this I am truly optimistic. I know tragedy happens and people move on. I know that tomorrow may be my last. I know my best work is yet to come.
Of this love? I know nothing. It is but a beautiful anonymous ghost that leads me around by the nose, and apparently has no sense of direction.
.... it still blurs my senses and blows my mind.
so Now that we're ready and
cracked like china plates
looking for
that one warm spot
the embryonic bliss
that comes with knowing
that we know nothing
let's sell some art and have a fucking party.
I understand that my views are counterproductive to "the real thing". I don't even know what that is, or if I would recognize it if it came along. For all I know it has and I've missed it.
but what of it really? It is something that I have limited control over, and am not willing to put a lot of effort into at the moment. I have traded it for self preservation at the moment. I put too much of myself into the last one... and now I know it. Compared to life and death, it was a pointless venture in my mind. A waste of time.
The future?...of this I am truly optimistic. I know tragedy happens and people move on. I know that tomorrow may be my last. I know my best work is yet to come.
Of this love? I know nothing. It is but a beautiful anonymous ghost that leads me around by the nose, and apparently has no sense of direction.
.... it still blurs my senses and blows my mind.
so Now that we're ready and
cracked like china plates
looking for
that one warm spot
the embryonic bliss
that comes with knowing
that we know nothing
let's sell some art and have a fucking party.
joscelyne:
WORD.
london:
romance is a big fat lie. or cover up for the truth.