Some days, it is really hard to love life. It is literally the one most unexplainable certainty, even if it is for one fleeing second. And when it happens almost every day, something has to give. These days, I feel that. I feel something has to change in life for me to feel the love inside of me, else, I will keep staring at this altercation in the mirror and wonder, what is staring back. Perfection is a difficult mistress to lap dance with, but so is imperfection. “Done” sounds a promising mistress, yet, it borders at being undone, that seeking it almost always seeks the “undone” too. Yeah, I know, that it is a convoluted sentence that sounds warped to mean something, but does not. But honestly, it does, don’t you think? Anyway, today is one of those days, where it is difficult to accept being an idiot when proof exists right in front of my eyes. Not that every day I think otherwise, but it would be nice to not have proof of being an idiot that obvious. I mean, how many days can we b...
Musings of my inward-eye...