Being lost is a comfortable place for me to be in because I love the mystery of not knowing where my heart and mind will take me. It is an exciting place to be in – igniting the soul in such a primal way, letting fascination, infatuation and the greatest dreams flow into one and yielding to the unwinding experience as if expanding to reaches you never thought possible.

I thought of this one time I had been with a beautiful girl and I told her she was like a goddess – which turned her off and the day after she kept staring at me as if almost insulted. I felt like a freak for over appreciating a mere fling. But it got me thinking of how this must be a common thing people experience – you get so into another person and boundaries are dissolved.

Suddenly your dreams become true and you start experiencing a long awaited dream that you never thought possible – and you ruin it with careless words…

We live with hopes that we have no faith in and carry them with us always. It is a pastime activity to dream and wallow in this stuff that has a fractional chance of being manifested – yet it is so ‘normal’ that it’s a part of life. We watch films in which our idols achieve these feats and worship this triumph.

We strive to get to points of such greatness in our own lives and sometimes only allow others to live in such bliss and consistent happiness. ‘its not for me, I won’t achieve that, I don’t allow myself to live in such a miraculous way.’

We lie to ourselves and keep pushing to arrive at our next endeavours end. Voices keep motivating us. Something inside me wants me to not give up.

And so it is with our trusted friend – true love – at least I don’t stop pushing. My hearts is in some kind of vice.

I have gobbled up too much of ideal romance to not follow this, by now, thick strand. I’ve lost it somehow – the ability to suffocate my hope. For no reason at all I feel as though I will always yearn until I vindicate this discredited belief. WITH the intent of truly living love in all it can be.

I hope for your sake your delusion is not as deep as mine, but that’s a trait of being in love, I think – this sort of being in uncontrollableness. Somehow BEYOND control in its wild divinity.

So know that I am one of the ones that is interested in your dreams – those ones you could only let yourself live if you give in.

It has a sense of evil to it – that loss of grip and letting go – as if its not good to let yourself live things others could only fathom in their sleep.

All I know is that its over for me. I think I’ve gone too far and will continue involuntarily hemming myself in the future passively. A kind of illness that lets me feel sane when thinking: ‘just be normal – life isn’t a movie. The odds are too slim’

Let go of me – this one you cannot save.