Listening to: Black milk
massive attack

My diaphanous understanding of emotions, how they work and the romanticist in me, have been given the go ahead to co-exist with the pragmatist in me tonight.. I will always want what i want. You reminded me.

It amuses me, when people drone on about building walls, like it is so easy to truss up your humaness, like a leaden marionette with a statement of 'i've been there, no more'. Do you honestly think you can blindly ignore what surges through you at the least expected moment? That even though you say you don't want the pain, at the back of your little broken heart it waits with bloody breath for the moment you can at last slumber in the arms of someone you call beloved? I understand, and i'm sorry you feel this way.

You've told me. You want to be heard. I'm not the only exhibitionist, and your need for wanting to be engaged, heard, is so tumescent that it feels like it is going to explode all over my face as i scrutinise you. You want to be engaged, and you, you poor fool, pain can never be brushed off, only slightly muffled by your ego defences and psychological frou frou.

Your heart is sanctitiously yours no matter what it feels like at times. Unfortunately, dear one, that means you get to drink in all of its glorious wine, alternatingly cloying and vile.