A Collection of Spectacles


Distorted views I currently hold that keep me from advancing: Love is not a regenerative entity. I struggle to find the power to love, fall out of love, say I once loved but don’t anymore, and then start again. The emotion is more like a pie (the only comparison I can think of, sorry) of sorts. I’m giving away whole pieces, parts of myself. Dealing in non-refundable transactions.  

When I don’t have anyone in particular in mind, and I lack a flesh and blood being that I can dress in amorous apparel, I tend to imagine phantom figures. I take frequent trips, mental excursions, upon which I throughly inspect the unmistakably flawed, but undeniably remarkable, specimen. There’s a possibility that this thought, the one that I began to believe only existed in the abstract,  could once again take a tangible form.* How I hope this “maybe” comes to fruition. I think I’ve spent too long punishing myself for not getting things right . 

*If it’s nothing…I mean, if it nothing comes of it, then I won’t mention it again.

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