I wish I could do something extraordinary. I wish I had a knack for something. I wish I could be recognized for something magnificent.
I am so tired of my envious proclivity.
I suppose it is completely frivolous to approach it this way. I suppose I'm simply venting.
I just.. want to make an impression. Fairly new into this life, maybe my own time has yet to come. How long does it take, though? What if I never find that thing?
This exploration of self is formidable.
Enter my thoughts. Inside, you'll find my darkest desires. Upon unfolding, there is something fresh, you may notice. Tonight I choose to share it. Hopefully only once, and my memory will flush it into the sewers of my heart to be forgotten. I.. think I hope.
Something has invaded my perfect world. I had a plan. I had very high hopes for it. But now I find that it is second-rate. Plans shmans! I am me. And in being so, I can get exactly what I want.
But I desire the unattainable. I desire these things, but I am only given the opportunity for one. So choose, I must.
I am foolish, I agree. "You cannot have your cake and eat it as well!" I know, I know. My heart wont take two directions, in any case. One will always come up fraudulent.
My body so craves, and my heart so cries out, though.
Please, tell no one.
Why does this keep happening, everytime I settle down? Does that mean my choices are below me? I cannot conclude.
Why does this keep fucking happening?
I'm so happy, it's inconceivable.
I yearn to tell you my thoughts, in the most picturesque of ways. I want to paint you a rapturous masterpiece. I want to sketch a mountain of sheer sincerity. I want to stitch a heart for you, the size of Jupiter. I want it to be as delicate as your silken tongue. I want to shape a collage, giving center stage to every moment you make my lips curl in that upward fashion. I want to sculpt an object from a soft clay, created from every reason that I want to tell you that I love you.
Ask me what I'm thinking one more time.
|I'm a murderer.|