"Is it better to have done and lost or not have it at all"
I know I didn't quote that correctly but I remember jay-z using that before in a freestyle and then later on a song and that is a crazy difficult question. Like wow, would u rather feel love and have a broken heart fro it or never know what it feels like to be "in love?"
Interesting huh? Or no? I think it is, personally. Otherwise I wouldn't be blogging about it, right? Duhh lol.
I just haven't been feeling right, every once in a while. i get these nostalgia feelings and thoughts that pop up relatively randomly. It all reminds me of a poem. A poem, which is incomplete, already written and yet not finished. When i originally started this entry i wanted to express those feelings. Those feeling that needed to be expressed not surpressed. To let you know, i feel for you, i feel for me, and i know you know that we both kinda know what being is love might, will, and does feel like.
Everything is in direct.
That is your key and clue. Accept it. Figure it out. Riddle. It's almost as this entry is poetic in a sense but doesn't make much sense to the reader. I just wanted to say the after relationship love... or the lack there of, is a complicated thing. especially when your ideas and ideals have, to a certain extent, been revealed and exposed, infaltrated.
It's the smell, the scent, the kiss, the softness of thy lips, the smoothness of thy tounge, and the concept that without a word spoken, the eyes tell a hundred sentences and well, your body, tells me what it yearns for. But the heart is a complicated thing, so complex it fucks with the mind.
It's the morning look, of hunger, desire, or the get away from me, you fucked up my sleep. The night turnings, the bathroom breaks, the paranoia of gaining well earned sleep. fucked up and placed blame onto another human being. love. it really is picnics in the park, walks by the dock, sushi outside, with your soft, glazed hair blowing in the wind as if a slow motion movie scene.
It is old, young, fire, pain, and the need for each other. The spark to argeeing and disagreeing. it is paint, splashed all over brand new tiles in the kitchen, as a roach dies by the spray which has been invented. it is vanity, confusion, complacency, but the fact that you and i know, there is nothing like this, better or worse. is this where you want to be? the path you would like to lead?
every sip of sin, in the bedroom when you scream or on the wine glass you hold so evidently tight. with lipstick or chapstick smeared on the tip. the edge of happiness. tilts like a scale. drama. melancholy. confusion.
would i ever like to love again? maybe. or do i wish to hold the one i have loved? maybe. it's this reluctancy to use logic over feelings that brings me to my knees and causes chaos in the body.
i have no answers. nor questions. just w0rds...
jus words
