The Villain

After many failed attempts to purge my emotions, I feel like the villain. A strong part of me wishes to extirpate every remnant of her existence from my mind.. There’s a recurring war within me that questions whether I’m a bad person or not. The essence of our situation suggests yes, however, the guilt I feel magnifies that I’m not entirely. Why does she have to be so goddamn beautiful?

The world we live in is an alley-oop for isolation desirability; An imbalanced dominance of mental instability. True happiness seems to be nothing less than a Hail Mary. How can you love fully in an immoral world? What happens, though, when you fall in love in a situation you despise, or at least what was once viewed in nonnegotiable black & white?

External beauty often entices in the realm of human attraction. However, how do you maintain control when you look into someone’s eyes
& find a reflection of your entire soul staring back at you? Is there a level of love that transcends human morality? Are we all susceptible to breaching everything we once believed in? Can shattered love ever truly be reconciled? Or do some people cross paths with their true soulmate with excruciatingly unfortunate timing?

Life as an artist opens the door to emotional extremes on a regular basis. For me, art derived from pain holds the truest form. My thought process throughout this may have confirmed that I’m actually crazy.. While I believe such an impossible connection is once in a lifetime, I can’t help but wonder how intense the pain would be from losing it. Am I actually so far gone into art that I’m curious about what would come from that untravelled depth of pain? Would it be the birth of art I’d never achieve otherwise or would it permanently bury a part of me that I once believed was already dead anyway? Would I be making the exact same mistake that I’ve already made?

Is furtive love something that offers more power than the superficial charm of social glamour? Never before have I ever felt more deceived by smiles than in this moment. Is anyone actually special or are we all just illusions in a preexisting crisis? Is there really anything definitive that comes from human extremes?

A plethora of unanswerable questions, as per usual. While emotional despair isn’t the foundation, surely there’s a recurring undertone throughout my life that constantly allows it to resurface. How can I be so unbearably difficult in almost every life situation that I find myself in While I crave extremes, I fantasize of a world that’s based around simplicity.. Where the stars & moon align in a way that magnifies that what we have is enough..

so that we can stop running from who we are. Nothing in life has ever felt like enough until I saw her.. Even though we both know it will never happen in this lifetime, all I can say is.. Another life, another time, right?

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