...poppycock and hogwash...
Calmness has never been a strong suit of mine. I do not believe that I possess the genotype that lends itself to the capability of that emotion. Poppycock and hogwash. I've grown ancient over these past years, "ah no, where were you to lie" "I need a release….summon you here my love" ….there is no love, I am here, therefore, to announce a most anonymous and very fictitious, most dear creation of my imagination. I have not named such a sacred individual that is to be mine, I have yet to determine the appropriate title. However, I have come to the conclusion that he shall, and will so dedicatedly, save me from any future indiscretion, as I will be taken by the most darling of men. He will, so very patiently, wait for my attentions to him, as to further create his mannerisms, or to indulge his particular smile, at any given state. I will laugh, and he will watch, I will cry and he will feel pain. Not exacerbated contempt as is the customary response to this emotion . I will nevermore ache, and slowly he will fade into oblivion where I vaguely can recall that quite possibly there was ever a story attached to his person. This was my, once-however quite frequent-young determination. I was certain I was never to find a love, a life, outside of the one that I so carelessly sought release. I would pray, how sickening a thought, to have a kiss. Just a single kiss, so that I ought to know how it felt-to be kissed. Ha! I laugh at the pathetic ideas that led me on such a treacherous path. To imagine such an idea, that was never experienced, and your mind could not quite grasp the idea that the floor was solid. It would fall beneath you at the slightest hint that a kiss might actually be accomplished. But here, I need not stay. I have passed these frivolous ideas to a place where I need not seek any contemplation or energy from another single individual who so wholy is without any care of me, or mine. By mine, I do intend to imply the darlings of my current existence. They will not go away, they cannot be wished to another time, or another life. They are the biggest part of all-of me. This is the warmth that has kept me alive these many years. How selfish, yet simplistic an idea. I love ideas. I have always longed for something or someone that was unable to possess. We would (simply) lead our lives, happy even, untouched by the disgusting things of the world. I was selfish and pretentious enough, though I think myself not, to believe that anything could and can be permanent.