The problem, I guess, is that I have always been too contented with the simple. In today’s completely romance absent atmosphere I have been unable to maintain an emotional independence. It is evident I can still fall in love and women apparently find that enough to make up for my lopsided awkwardness. I’ll never get anything done until I burn my face chemically in a freak industrial accident.

Beauty is the essence, the sublime our construct.

the construct is killing me.

Bisect the angle, middle aged for an “equilateral”. Feminization is socialization too. i need a ladder for mounting this high horse. How many times can i mean it?

and in the end when you stare down the very meaningless of it you realize softly in a sob you can hide as a sigh that you are so done with this reality. And the violent tears you are going to shed tonight and tomorrow forever on for the sadness and the heartbreak and the fear and the loneliness are all just our sublime response to the beauty surrounding us. i'm finally waiting for the moment that is going to completely powder me, i'll be yours to consume soon. and i will only be and react.