Why run after a beautiful body, with their hopeless views on esthetics and promises of a pornographic view on sex? The real point of connecting is to explore the beautiful minds who populate the earth and who gives something in return. Be gentile, futile, fertile, young and humble as long as you can. Be funny to some extent, understanding to those who disclose their emotions to you and honest with those who are deserving. I know for sure, that I will always be fighting eternally this battle in my mind, about whom I will relate to and eventually; love.
Lets say its only but a pit stop. Sitting in the hollow really makes you tearful and happy. By the way, the two polocoustic words are not interwoven. Believe me, if you’d try my tears, you’d be lesser. Let’s rephrase. I did love him, then I suddenly didn’t. I fell for lust. I did not fell for lust. I wanted to flee. I did not flee. I did everything I did not want to do.
It’s like being the nonwoven point between two hyperbola. The relief of letting go and the regret of the same. No tears can exit these canals. Even if they are forced, they will remain static, failed. I miss the value of him. Anything else? Holy shit I fucking was infatuated with that guy. Loving. Caring. Sharing every moment.