lunes, 8 de septiembre de 2014

Of red and pink parachutes

And here I thought I saw clear, when I couldn't have been more mistaken. I thought my sight wasn't blurry anymore, but it was a fluke of the mind, it was madness all along. And I don't really know how, or why or when, but it was there, the deceitful promise. And I believed it. I thrived on it.

It doesn't really make sense, come think about it, if past experience's anything but a lesson to be learned, but I believed it. Again, I believed it. For fuck's sake! How many times do I have to trip on a stone before I figure out there's a stone there? I thought that hey, I couldn't infer a future result from past situations, that it only took one time to refute all my theories and hypothesis. Boy, was I blind.

Well, fuck that. I know better now.

Because it's been years already since anyone's looked at me the way he looked at her. Because it's been 2 weeks and all of 3 failed attempts at getting him to meet me are telling me I should really back the fuck off. Because the same can be said about... just about anyone else, really. Because I spent a day in between covers and the only one noticing something strange was so far away he's out of my reach.

So I'm thinking that I'll stop trying, I'll be better off that way. If anything comes (and my mind really still wants to tell me that it's not if, but when), I'll figure out what to do with it. Until then, me and my cat sounds about right.

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