Tag Archives: desperation

Crush

Crush

Crush always likes to slam into me like a 30 foot tsunami.  I just don’t know what hit me and I don’t see him coming (no pun intended).  His desperation for a home is a result of my desperation for autonomy.  I say he is “desperate” because his fancy takes such a wide variation of forms, so wide that I couldn’t possibly choose just one.  I love them all (all meaning foreign ones, domestics are just pass times).  He makes me love the way they speak, the words they say, the tone they use, the stuff I would normally shun, the actions they so easily express without asking…I love it all.  I want to take it home with me.  Nurture it and live off it to the point where I am completely dependent on it.

Sadly crush doesn’t stay in one place for long.  His constant shifts sadden me.  But in my deepest, darkest despair over what I can’t have there is always a little light checking in.  He feeds me attention when I least expect it.  He actually gives me hope…. but I think it is just crush in friend’s clothing…

The Minded

The Minded

The weak minded are easily influenced by the opinions of other people whom they hold to be of better judgment or character than themselves. They often can easily hide behind confidence of intellect to mask their emotional insecurities. Justification for their actions is often sideswipe as unnecessary since there is most likely either no logical reason for their behavior to put into words or the logical reason is constantly deemed as a constant (which others are assumed to already know) by the mind and thus is never expressed directly. They apply salesmen desperation as hope upon outcomes involving people around them who depend upon them as fulfillment of their own typically social existence.

Rebellion is only a problem when it inhibits one from performing a seemingly normal everyday life and continues to push a person to make choices that continuous put them at a disadvantage to what they were perfectly capable of achieving. When the mind is sick with rebellion, it must rebel against anything identified as a social construct, out of shame from the fact that they, too, were sucked in and enjoyed it and also from fear that outsiders might actually figure out that their confident gait is hiding nothing more than a fool like they believe everyone else to be. Their constant rebellion, which may indeed prove positive at times, most often does nothing more for them than keep them running. This endurance depicts to the outside world that the runner is superior to what they are running from, that they understand it and thus have chosen wisely against such a thing, which can be anything, even a glass of water.