I desire to witness you resurrect from slumber at dawn,
To acknowledge what your first thought of the day is,
To see your cute sleepy face trying to make sense of the environment you entrusted to lay your head at the night before,
To hear your voice cracking just a bit as if you’re greasing up your windpipe with serenade.
Apollo is the harbinger who must restore all the memories you garner that makes you pray for amnesia.
I yearn for you to gaze into my eyes as you attempt to verbalize the wispy interim of the blank slate
Before he summons all your joy and all your pain to occupy even the darkest corners of your mind once more…
Good morning to my expressive fallen angels! What do you have planned for this weekend? So today, I woke up recalling the times when I still lived with my mother. I remember sometimes she would get her hair done. Beautifully styled to compliment the women on the shows on TV Land we used to watch together. Why did this random memory resurface today? I notice that my first thought of the day usually composes of either my ex or my mother. The two people who hurt me the most are the two people I once loved the most. The pain has been nullified as the time goes by but pain demands to be felt. My mother hid her beauty under a hijab (a shawl muslim women wear to cover their scalps). My ex hid his heart within the abysmal darkness that made up his walls. I’m not like them. I take pleasure in that fact. I don’t repress anything. My heart and my masculine beauty may be hidden by most but not all. I am not a generalization. I understand that if most people can’t see the real me, then it’s because I don’t let them get to know me. This loneliness is eating me alive but I forgot how to live any other way. I’m an introvert. Apart from you, my fallen angels, only my therapist has access to my rantings. But who am I to you? Who are you to me? Does it really matter if no one can see it? I’m just a fabricated leviathan easily slain. I think very highly of myself but I’m only human. One fatal draw of fate can end my time in this world. My body is merely a vessel of biblical proportions. Then again, I’m relying on belief that this life is worth living. Nothing is proven. But to sum it all up, perhaps loneliness is one of the truest things there is and whether or not I let myself establish external connections with others makes no difference either way. Maybe I’m right or maybe it’s just another theory piled on infinite other postulates by other Philosophers. At least I know for myself where my salvation came from. I can only hope that you find yours too, if you haven’t done so already. Age is no correlation to when you’ll discover it. Time treats the soul differently. With that positive note, I wish you all a wonderful day! Over and out.
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