Sometimes I feel that every thing is only a figment of my own thought. How preposterous you say? What's to say that I am not in such a deep sleep, such a deep trance that I cannot break. I look at the world in the present, but one can only see so much. I mean the present is only a few seconds long, long enough to remember somethings and forget others. For the most part I reside in the past. Although it is easy to seek refuge in what is certain, I do so not for the safety but the comfort it brings half knowing what is about to happen. For certain the course has run it's cycle and all that we experience are the tiny deviations and the occasional absurdity. I'm not crazy when I say this. It is just in our best nature. I thrive on those wakeful nights in which my dreams get jumbled with reality. When it has come to this point, it's about time to stay awake, and awake I stay tonight.
I wouldn't mind if someone came out of the wood-work and told me I am special. I like to think that I don't care what people think about me, but the truth is I have forgot my old ideals. I think that in some way shape or form everybody is like this. With everyone urning for this, no one can seem to find relieve. All hope is lost. It's a tragedy if you think about it. Our selfish, juvenile world has no reciprocation.
I loath you. You fooled me. You bamboozled me! It is so true that you were too good for me. Somehow I deceived myself to think that it was possible. I am just really sad about it all. The least you could have done was tell me. The most considerate thing you could have done was give me a chance. I weep in your memories. Thanks.
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