BAD monlogue i wrote guy last yr

 22.09.18

i don’t know why im "how i am" with you, but in some strange way i think i like the hopelessness of trying to get what i want, knowing the next day everything's silent. by now i know the impossibility of anything tangible; whatever happens, you won't ever exist "how you do" to me in real time, so our time together becomes limited and this moment unfolds there and then belonging only to us, whatever we want to do with it, giving a small part of ourselves over 'til morning. even if i give away too much, its like: tonights our only night, so all or nothing ! deep down, i know everything goes right through you and when we see each other its gone with the wind, but even so, i get to prod at you all over again, and somehow it's enough to keep me going. 

it's like I’m feeling something so important even i don’t understand, but really i know i’m just trying to prove something to myself. none of its ideal, it's not a dream, but for metaphors sake lets say it is. i cant let it end because i have this horrible hope in me that i might find something great in you. its kind of sick, how morning comes, it's back to pumpkins, and reality begins to set in. the first time, i had this silly sort of optimism, but now i know (for sure) there's no glass slipper. nowadays, i'm unsure what i take from it. sometimes I’m losing more than gaining anything at all. knowing less than before, the dream lingers..and i sit here decorating it all. it's how i cope with how terribly disappointing the whole thing is in the end. curiosity and optimism are big problems for me, but the bittersweet narrative of all this shit makes me feel somewhat better about all the wasted potentiality. and despite knowing how little i mean to you, and later trying to convince myself i'm saying this for my own good (so i feel better about the fact you'll never get it), the optimism in me believes there's something to admit (beyond you and me), in all this feeling. you'll continue in oblivion like you do, but somehow i truly believe true or false, you should hear this (for no reason other than it can't hurt). and even though you won’t listen, the way i come back around to you like clockwork makes me think theres something i’m supposed to tell you, like one day you might hear what i'm saying and get it. in truth though, more often than not, there's entirely nothing "beyond you or me". in truth you’re an overdecorated idea. and when it comes down to it i'll tell myself you're both the dream and the reality, because what's the good in truth? for now at least I’m having fun...i'll survive, i have survived.......anyways i always did like the excruciating pleasure of what if