6

The only advantageous hour of the day is the time I resist sleep. I formed this sinister defiance of the night some years ago when I believed (with enviable conviction) in the infinite production of human tears. The first nights were tactical disasters, as I had just acquainted myself with the beginnings of a permanent practice. I remember the first nights with solemn respect- the counting of real losses and historic misfortunes, most which I acquired through the fatal choice of social integration.

Definitely, I admit to assuming the ungovernable(baseless) tradition of youth that infects all of my vulnerable contemporaries- the idiotic fascination with others.

I am guilty of that,

And more

----

This is about a woman with cinematic beauty. I met her in a time of unknowable transition and I, debilitated by the decline of first-love splendor, could not recognize the wealth of her intensity. With wall-paper around my heart, I described her with trite, unjust adjectives to close friends, obstinately ignoring her unutterable depiction.

Despite the many unkind moments summoned by her absence, I make her exist through the masochistic act of association. The number of quotidian connections become inexplicably impairing in the mornings. I think of her carefully.

The concept of Never and the concept of Always are temporal fallacies.

After-all.