If I were to start speaking right now, what would I say?
It certainly wouldn’t be about the day that I’ve had.
It wouldn’t be about how content I am with the current times.
It wouldn’t even be about my gripe with that familiar neighbor
He tries his best to comfort me, but loses me the closer he gets.
There’s something about the constant yearning that’s enticing to a dead man walking.
Something about already knowing the processed parallel, and the fully realized truth.
Looking, staring truth dead in its face and embracing it, knowing it took from me more than I have ever taken from it.
This pain that is too familiar to me is the pain that I love. My self-consciousness.
Because to obsess is to love.
It certainly wouldn’t be about the day that I’ve had.
It wouldn’t be about how content I am with the current times.
It wouldn’t even be about my gripe with that familiar neighbor
He tries his best to comfort me, but loses me the closer he gets.
There’s something about the constant yearning that’s enticing to a dead man walking.
Something about already knowing the processed parallel, and the fully realized truth.
Looking, staring truth dead in its face and embracing it, knowing it took from me more than I have ever taken from it.
This pain that is too familiar to me is the pain that I love. My self-consciousness.
Because to obsess is to love.
