Romanticism

Romanticism is too much. Everything reads like a poem. Knowing it is an modernist essay or a great novel. Long forgotten of course, then remembered, of course. Distracted by the understudy (there always is one). The world is a play, yet we are not all typical performers. There are styles and ways. Out of into the new quiet.

No Pryor Signs of Non-conformity

I'm full of self doubt, but it does not matter. I must do this anyway. There is nothing wrong with me and I am for the most part very easy to understand. Possibly too easy to understand. In this lies the complexity that is fakes and interacting with me. I know that now. So in this light, I must carry on. The writing, the art, the performing arts, science. It's all part of my bigger picture. It is what I understand. What I am lucky to underestand. My place of comfort has be typically projected as a place of uncomfort. That is okay. You can't be friends with everyone.

The isolation period is over. The collection must be shown and expressed. For all the love that is holy and absent. I try to talk myself out of things. To see it all from all the sides. Like chess. Yet it can also be any of the many other forms of expression I like. Like modern dance. The results will be the same. The difference is the envirtonment. In worlds that seem uncomfortable or unwelcoming on the service is the safety. The smiler is the beast, the frowned is the smiler.

This is unseen lit, yet I do now understand.

I let go of you today. Even though I wish I wouldn't have had to. That I could run away with you. That I could have been honest. That you would have accepted me.  That it was not so much separation in our relationship. Without you, will I even be myself? I let go of you today. Though I loved you so much. I still love you so much. The one who came in and ruined every terrible thing I'd ever done to myself. Now you seem so far away. Thought I hid from you, you got the real me. I cry in my room. For you. For us. For my imagination and how it ran wild with thoughts of you for so many months. I leave it up to you now. If you all find me in my sorrow. I know you loved and I loved you. I know I loved you even though I lied and hid from you. You were my dream. You mended my broken heart. So I lay here and cry for you. My beautiful angle. Forgive me. Remember my eyes. I've never been so heartbroken while in love. I guess this is it.  Want to sit and wait for you again. But love never knocks like that. I can't have everything. I have to live this life. I can't run away with you, you even said that. Yet at the beginning. You said we were in two different places in our lives. You deserve to live and I must go live as well. You were my angel and my god. You. Me. We. I'll cry this all out. So much beauty in your eyes. So much anger in your touch. We could have. We couldn't. Send in the clowns, my love. We never had a song because you hate music. We never danced. But I'll remember your walk, the way you smile and smelled and your hands. That voice, man that voice. Carry on, Agent. Don't forget about me. Don't forget to say goodbye. Because I am too afraid. Maybe we broth were too afraid. I made a choice tonight. Not to stare at your pictures or your messages any more. I'll always be what you made me. Fuck. I hate hate.