Not a Dear, Much to Fear -- Controversies,
You are so tiring. So, so tiring. The dictionary should provide you as a synonym to 'vicious circle'. It would be perfect -- round, and round, and more concentric rounds. Like one of those illusion images. God, your complete aura of involvement as opposed to your true being of nonessential is such a trap. I agree, I too am such a will-o'-the-wisp sometimes. Like writing a letter to you behaving as if I have never felt to be a part of you. No. On the contrary, you have always made me a part of you, however unconsciously, or judiciously.
Having said that we have had our own love-hate relationship, I speak like a preachy priest now. In this beautiful gift of life, you are so irrelevant. I want to carve a path out for you into the forest leading to a deep sea, where you can drown into worlds, and where you wouldn't be able to create waves stronger than those which already exist.
You should just be, you know. Deep down the sea, play with some mermaids, games of 'who-jumps-higher' and 'hide-and-seek'. Entertain them and show them your caliber. And keep yourself at bay. You are really not needed. And you impossibly waste a lot of time. So many words and moments are lured into your process of being, as if they are magnetically pulled into a responsibility of nurturing you.
Without you, I will have a lot less tampering of facts, and a lot more garnishing of living. Without you, I may sometimes fall short of useless conversations, but never out of meaningful silences. Without you, is a good place to be.
At war with words,
K.
You are so tiring. So, so tiring. The dictionary should provide you as a synonym to 'vicious circle'. It would be perfect -- round, and round, and more concentric rounds. Like one of those illusion images. God, your complete aura of involvement as opposed to your true being of nonessential is such a trap. I agree, I too am such a will-o'-the-wisp sometimes. Like writing a letter to you behaving as if I have never felt to be a part of you. No. On the contrary, you have always made me a part of you, however unconsciously, or judiciously.
Having said that we have had our own love-hate relationship, I speak like a preachy priest now. In this beautiful gift of life, you are so irrelevant. I want to carve a path out for you into the forest leading to a deep sea, where you can drown into worlds, and where you wouldn't be able to create waves stronger than those which already exist.
You should just be, you know. Deep down the sea, play with some mermaids, games of 'who-jumps-higher' and 'hide-and-seek'. Entertain them and show them your caliber. And keep yourself at bay. You are really not needed. And you impossibly waste a lot of time. So many words and moments are lured into your process of being, as if they are magnetically pulled into a responsibility of nurturing you.
Without you, I will have a lot less tampering of facts, and a lot more garnishing of living. Without you, I may sometimes fall short of useless conversations, but never out of meaningful silences. Without you, is a good place to be.
At war with words,
K.
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