I made an Estella
well, that's a lie, first of all. I merely encouraged one, like I always said I wanted to. So how'd it turn out? Was it everything I dreamt it'd be? I suppose It Is. It's lovely to see, actually, even if the frinedly fire got into my own yard.... ha.
Always a funny side, always a bright side... It is ironic, really, that I get what I ask for. Maybe I should ask for a car that I don't need that people get when they go through their midlife crisis, eh? Well Actually I'm not that kinda vain, yet.
"I heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the Lord..." There's always music to drown in, at least. I wonder how I became this way, to let myself be affected so... to have been... annoying to the one I care so much for... I'm coming this close... to regreting, but I won't... A man's gotta have some principles, after all.
a cold and a broken hallelujah indeed... I'm reminded of the repetition of prayers. I was looking forward to the meditation too. I suppose there never was a point. To have wanted to share something of oneself, only... it's not an exchange. Maybe that's why we will never understand those tears of heaven when they do rain down. There's simply too much "I".
I'm not quite used to this much self doubt. Could I have done anything differently? No. Could she? No. So why the questioning? Only natural to second guess, but this is not the sign of the enlightened man. Yet I relish it. Maybe it is only in this way do I remember her as reality, and not a character from a book, not just as... print, images, scent, but a moving, able, sentient being.
Maybe I ought to though, so much print... A book character, a literary character I can feel for, and long for, and put on hold. How many days has passed, not even a week. Yet it feels like an eternity... How long will another 4 last... they say there's nothing longer than the infinity, yet 4 or 5 times seems awfully longer than just one span. What is to be done? All this nothing is wearing on me. I wonder if this is how Atlas felt, standing on the nothingness.
Though I have to say... to miss someone... hurts so good.
Always a funny side, always a bright side... It is ironic, really, that I get what I ask for. Maybe I should ask for a car that I don't need that people get when they go through their midlife crisis, eh? Well Actually I'm not that kinda vain, yet.
"I heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the Lord..." There's always music to drown in, at least. I wonder how I became this way, to let myself be affected so... to have been... annoying to the one I care so much for... I'm coming this close... to regreting, but I won't... A man's gotta have some principles, after all.
a cold and a broken hallelujah indeed... I'm reminded of the repetition of prayers. I was looking forward to the meditation too. I suppose there never was a point. To have wanted to share something of oneself, only... it's not an exchange. Maybe that's why we will never understand those tears of heaven when they do rain down. There's simply too much "I".
I'm not quite used to this much self doubt. Could I have done anything differently? No. Could she? No. So why the questioning? Only natural to second guess, but this is not the sign of the enlightened man. Yet I relish it. Maybe it is only in this way do I remember her as reality, and not a character from a book, not just as... print, images, scent, but a moving, able, sentient being.
Maybe I ought to though, so much print... A book character, a literary character I can feel for, and long for, and put on hold. How many days has passed, not even a week. Yet it feels like an eternity... How long will another 4 last... they say there's nothing longer than the infinity, yet 4 or 5 times seems awfully longer than just one span. What is to be done? All this nothing is wearing on me. I wonder if this is how Atlas felt, standing on the nothingness.
Though I have to say... to miss someone... hurts so good.
posted by Zephyr ex Machina at 23:27
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