kenyon

disclaimer: i have no desire to attend a rennaisance fair, nor did i ever possess this desire.

more nostalgia. it's these humid, noisy city nights. dreaming of old dangers, craving toward new ones. biologically speaking, desire is just a different take on fear. a different slant to the same basic fight-or-flight response. heavy breathing, dilated pupils, flushing - it's all the same. this is why new love is so exciting. the tension, the "fear." these restless summery nights always make me think of dangerous romance (or something like that), and how i miss it with a sharp pang.

i wonder what biological double the body holds for nostalgia? perhaps when we evoke memories of Past Loves it is similar to the feeling of family - of missing a loved one, and wanting to find them and keep them safe. species survival.

enough breaking this shit down. i can only afford little sips of the sap right now. time to build back up to the present, and fast.

ah fuck, but the lingering regrets about wrong turns and the relentless, galloping hoof-pounding of dwindling youth etc. are so strong tonight. (i know i'm writing weirdly, it's late and i feel odd and all medievil or some shit.) i'm such a fucking spotlight whore/ adrenaline junkie/ thrill-me-now theatrical that sometimes (often) it just ploughs through all other priorities, leaving them in a heap. then, no matter how hard i fight it, my priorities shrink to the clean thrill of the chase, and sometimes capture, or the new twist that i didn't see coming. and then i'm sated for a little while.

this, aside from the fact that i'm virtually married to a wonderful boy (along with myriad other reasons), is why you don't want to date me. or even embark on some sort of carefree, simplified adventure in which we are all heroes. unless it's in the past, in which case, i miss you!