troglodytic

"A yak is a prehistoric cabbage: of this, at least, we can be sure." -John Ashberry

I am getting better at life, methinks. In that I am becoming more emotionally independent. I am getting worse at life for the same reason.

The illusion, though. Yeah. It's there. There will be a day when my emotions will not be accessible. There will come a day when I may lie and you will not even know it and I will not feel sorry. It has been said, and I am willing now to embrace it, that college has corrupted me.

I may be brave, and passionate, and good... but I am not so stupid or stubborn to keep fighting when there is another way. I am tired, in my soul. I am tired. It ends here.

There is no place I belong. No person I can depend upon. There is no God that I can have anything to do with. There is nothing but the illusion.

If I love long enough hard enough freely enough well enough passionately enough... if i try every day as if it were everything as if it mattered.... i thought if then.... then I could maybe find somebody to love me. But people don't love the genuine any more. People love the well balanced the beautiful the talented the independent the nonfeeling.

To be in love.

You will not find me as such for a while.

You will not find me emailing or posting or calling or knocking or greeting or reaching any more. If you want me then come and get me. I am tired of pursuing. I want to be pursued. I am tired of loving. I want to be loved. "Lord grant that I might not so much seek to be loved as to love."

Love... perhaps the greatest illusion of all. And fine in its own way.

I have cherished you love. I have not been afraid of you. I have not given up on you though those around me cast you aside. I have sought you out. I have spread you around. I have spoken in your favor time and time again. I have gained you followers. I have admired you from afar in all your forms. I have enjoyed many of those forms for myself. But the form that I was always seeking was somebody else seeking you.

I want somebody else to notice the way I breathe. The way I want and the way I think and the way I believe. I want to be noticed.

I want to be loved as I love.

I want to eat crispy selfishness from every branch of the tree of knowledge.

You bring me so close. And then you drop me like so many apples falling from the tree.

Dont bring me close... it is just a tease.

I would rather I was hated.

Dont offer me half of what I want... I want it all.

Dont bother.

dont.

I am through.

It is through.

Love,,, you and I are through.

But the illusion remains.

Thank God that the illusion remains.

Where would we be without it?