n a s c e n c e.

(the uterine blossom)

disappointment
2:12 a.m. on 2003-11-07

When I woke up this morning, light was bursting in from behind my orange curtains and through the cracks. I did not want to move. After so many days of rain, it was beautiful.

The people here love me because I am cynical. I cannot tell if it is who I am or if it is who I act out due to positive reinforcement or if there is any difference between the two at all. I am not allowed to be good, to reclaim my faith, because everytime it comes back to me, autumn steals my breath away. They are baffled by the vile things I say and think, and did not know what to do when I began to cry while watching a film, or after I found beauty in something ridiculous. It seemed out of character, like my utter femininity masked behind things that seem masculine.

And I refuse to let myself get too close to him. I am scared that it will ruin everything, that I will find out that I don't like him at all, of the disappoint I feel over and over again by people who don't live up to my ideals. I stare at him from a distance, and he stares back, and I can love him like that. Romance blossoms in absence.

descend /ascend

existence | is | created | at | every | moment
The Semper Augustus