Thoughts (Rambling, I wish, I hate, etc)
Whenever I sit down to write I wish emotions could empty out of me. I hate the in-eloquence of everything I do. I want my life to be pure beauty and love and art. I wish I could sing, beyond beauty or structure or anything. Just something pure that bridged the gap between myself and others, between myself and love, between myself and something pure and excellent. Arete. I wish my life were arete. I wish my life were excellence and virtue.
I wish I did not exist at all, except as a character in one of your novels or poems. I wish I were as simple as you made me, and that all I had to do was accept my place in it all.
I wish I could understand myself and the people I love.
I wish life had a meaning instead of fractured pieces of it. An apple instead of a compost.
I wish I was only love. I wish I was only that feeling of knowing something is beautiful. I wish I wish I wish so much, always for something, always for something different. But always that same want.
I hate the way I talk. I hate the way I write. I hate the way I show my love. I hate the way that I am empty while love is so full. And that I could never become it.
