No
I do not love you.
I only love the idea of you.
I only love the idea of you.
posted at
7:47 AM
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6 comments
Interrogations Of A Life Unreached
About
Sometimes we need to stand by the side of the road and paint and let people passing by watch.
Perhaps we could sing instead, and it would be the same thing. The purpose is to not intrude
upon those who'd rather pass by hurriedly and to let the interested ones stand and stare, be
indifferent to the indifferent and also to those who aren't.
So here I am, standing beside me,
stopped and staring at me singing, or painting, or in more likelihood, lying on the grass with my
head upon my arms squinting at the sun.
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