mixed thoughts


Dark clouds abound and the African rain falls beautifully outside as the birds sing along in accompaniment to the patter of the drops on the leaves, rocks and roofs. Yet the darkest cloud is the one within me. The dark cloud that sets in when one is cast adrift and forgotten. Without trying you fucked the French… punctuated with Spanish and English and goodness knows what else. And when you were alone, depressed and sounding suicidal, I ran to your side only to discover that you were distraught because one of them had not contacted you after a one-night stand. There I was, heart broken from losing you, rushing to console you and comfort you in your time of pain, only to discover that it was a casual lover that had brought you pain.

And no one else can communicate because they are all imprisoned. Their partners are their jailors. The single ones can’t communicate either because they are too busy being chased.

And as for the boring one… oh so boring… there are things I could tell you that would destroy you. You play the most boring form of game and it is exhausting to communicate with you. You leave out massive chunks of information in order to try to make things sounds more interesting… but they are simply boring, boring, BORING! When you destroy convention, dabble in waters unsafe and taste rejection and pain, then you become interesting… then you taste life and you understand the true meaning of loss and of desire.

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