innerfictions

Wednesday 6 October 2010

Fragments

Apart - a part
longing - belonging


Bonded to those absent - so not absent? Yearning . . . I've grown too used to those who engage in psychoanalytical relationships, underground skirmishes, evidence gathering. This analysis of the other, is so... parochial. Defined by our own bounds. Our own madnesses. But, perhaps it's just too damn alluring . . .

It takes quite some inner adjustments to really accept, emotionally, that someone is not layering your every move, your every word, with hidden motives to disguise this, protect that. Who ask you questions, and you respond openly. And they reciprocate.

Talk to me, I'm a tired soul.
Walk with me, I'm a tired soul.



Cool for Cats . . . makes me happy.

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