I have a confession to make.
I did get your attention with my first sentence, didn’t I?
It is interesting how we humans can turn the silliest statement into the most valuable just by labeling it a “confession”.
Anyhow, this is not what I am intending to write about. What I will write about is something silly and not so interesting for most people. But you know when you have this urge to say what is going on inside that sick mind? You know when you HAVE to let things out before they explode inside and reach the outside undisguised – pure sick human emotions thrown down on your created pink world idealized and protected by the people around you?
Ok I am off limits again. I should write about my confession instead of blabbering around analyzing the natural and the concrete.
So, my first thoughts about this confession occurred last night; while I was having a drink with some friends.
It occurred to me then, that I am an extremely fastidious person. The threshold of my sense of satisfaction is too high; I cannot even see it anymore. Now this could be treated both positively and negatively. It could mean that I will not settle for less than my ideals, but it also means that I might end up shoving my ideals up my ass when I am eighty-four, in my corner, alone and still philosophizing and being my arrogant self around people I supposedly care about.
Maybe I will change, mature. Maybe my brain cells will mutate and start to accommodate the feeble minds. Maybe it is only my perception, that this phase I am going through determines who I am. But in reality it doesn’t. It is just a phase – like any other phase. Maybe it is my extended adolescence. Or is it all in my head?
The Licentiam - Five poems about fiancée here at The Licentiam, an awesome zine for experimental erotic work.
6 days ago