WHAT WE LOSE DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE
How does one love from afar, and ONLY from afar... Jesus fucking Christ, the curse of imagination, of the ability to spark a self serving genesis in personality, to fabricate the inner workings of another, a muse? And God damn the fool who countlessly finds himself disappointed, surprised and depressed at the eventual deviance from his naively assumed machinations!
THIS is the curse of love, or the price paid by the hopeful, an insecure lover, the one who would abandon pragmatism and even better, self interest, for the slim chance that some illusionary reality of cupids arrow might skewer his heart on the same shaft of the object of his obsession, affection and all things being perfect, his lust.
I have followed a rabbit down a hole as late, and as the hole seems never wide enough to carry the entirety of my being I have made the mistake again of discarding pieces of myself, selectively removing those parts I deemed less necessary or vital than the others. But the hopeful and ambitious fool mind-set lasts only long enough to excuse the loss of it's supporting characteristics to fit through that silly hole. Once through the hole, the resentment and discontent inevitably begin. How they reveal themselves varies at first but the symptoms once confronted are undeniable and can only lead to one end. The same end, so rather than allowing myself to begin to hate a woman I once admired enough to carry my hopes, heart and lusty misconceptions, I have bowed out and asked that she understand that while I admire her and care for her, I would do her a disservice to continue on in the guise of an emotional relationship. In other words, yes, I broke up with her. She will hate me for a while, and she despises even more that I suggested that she should. Me on the other hand I have felt a great weight of insincerity removed from head and heart, and as I have crawled back through this most recent Rabbit hole, I am determined to not allow myself to abandon the pieces of me that seem inconsequential at a cursory level, but appear to contribute more to my identity than I could have imagined.
I am a freak, and I need not hide that flag, but fly it high. Rabbit holes and pedestals be damned.
Where do freaks find freaks though, not just for forever but for sometimes a night?
How does one love from afar, and ONLY from afar... Jesus fucking Christ, the curse of imagination, of the ability to spark a self serving genesis in personality, to fabricate the inner workings of another, a muse? And God damn the fool who countlessly finds himself disappointed, surprised and depressed at the eventual deviance from his naively assumed machinations!
THIS is the curse of love, or the price paid by the hopeful, an insecure lover, the one who would abandon pragmatism and even better, self interest, for the slim chance that some illusionary reality of cupids arrow might skewer his heart on the same shaft of the object of his obsession, affection and all things being perfect, his lust.
I have followed a rabbit down a hole as late, and as the hole seems never wide enough to carry the entirety of my being I have made the mistake again of discarding pieces of myself, selectively removing those parts I deemed less necessary or vital than the others. But the hopeful and ambitious fool mind-set lasts only long enough to excuse the loss of it's supporting characteristics to fit through that silly hole. Once through the hole, the resentment and discontent inevitably begin. How they reveal themselves varies at first but the symptoms once confronted are undeniable and can only lead to one end. The same end, so rather than allowing myself to begin to hate a woman I once admired enough to carry my hopes, heart and lusty misconceptions, I have bowed out and asked that she understand that while I admire her and care for her, I would do her a disservice to continue on in the guise of an emotional relationship. In other words, yes, I broke up with her. She will hate me for a while, and she despises even more that I suggested that she should. Me on the other hand I have felt a great weight of insincerity removed from head and heart, and as I have crawled back through this most recent Rabbit hole, I am determined to not allow myself to abandon the pieces of me that seem inconsequential at a cursory level, but appear to contribute more to my identity than I could have imagined.
I am a freak, and I need not hide that flag, but fly it high. Rabbit holes and pedestals be damned.
Where do freaks find freaks though, not just for forever but for sometimes a night?
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
_tryst_:
oh my Word Magician, I truly have missed you 
gingerkiss:
Coffee and good conversation anytime 