Pragmatism
Originally Uploaded here by e-nikkos
The source of my unhappiness comes primarily from the ruining of my life. Not ruined for the future, but right now.
I was asked if I was okay - which happens more for me than most, or so I'm told - and what others could do to help. And I replied honestly. Nothing. My problem does not lie with you, nor with a lack in me. The sources of my unhappiness merely require work and focus, or time and patience. You, human, cannot give me those things, the work I need is my own, the time I need is not owned.
A series of compliments, how infinate in faculty, and yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? I don't complain, I merely muse about my lack of ability to appreciate the good in a situation.
You see, love, that no one has ever returned to me. I burn brightly and hot, and when they can finally let go, they do not seek me again. No matter how much they might miss me, the relief overcomes them, and I remain untouched.
Written On: Home Computer