N+94
I get to be paralyzed within myself. How is that even possible. Tiredness and strain build up endlessly. Things get messy. I would like so much for things to get messy between us. I remember the time you kissed my cheek. I felt on fleek. I can’t get the feeling back, my heart beating faster, the blood in my face, the unspoken words that would not come out. It’s just so weird, I don’t understand, in your presence, I feel alive. This is a feeling I am not used to.
Normally life, in which I perform a perfect casualty, a cool coldness, just passes by.
The I don’t care, recklessness is attractive. That is the thing I am looking for, I want them, the other, the reader, you to get addicted to me, so nobody sees how dependent I am, indeed, of them. Turned out, this technique is doomed to fail. Don’t ask me why. You already have the answer. I have tried, hard, very hard but it didn’t work, never mind.
So close to you I lose my smart words. I know you know the sharp trust about me. The fact that I play the intellectual because it’s the only way I can think of… being.
How to exist in this world? Yes again, this question popping up … again. I could try to leave the mask at home, but what would it be about, what am I about when I walk around without my way of thinking? It’s a new new affect, a new new way, that until now was not acknowledged by my higher self. Pfff… who talks like that anyway?
It’s very new, liking you, wanting you, so so much. I should know by now it’s fake. An ideal image that I build up, wrap you around and finally hide you within it. I don’t even ask you for consent. But it’s all right, it’s only an imaginative discursive discourse…
Could you please break this fake news I spread all around about me that likes you? And by the way make me see you as you truly are for who you are. I mean, I already create you an image, it takes a long and hard job to do so, so now it’s your turn to finish the job and show me who you are.
Just before I turned left into the stream of consciousness it seems that I touched an interesting idea I should go back to it and come back to you later. It’s a diary, my diary, you are no one, not define, this I should not forget.
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