Empty vases keep flowers alive.
At this age, each day feels like an impossible juncture. I can pinpoint the time and place that my world began to be ruled by the past. Still, there is no indication of my life paralleling that of James Gatz. Naturally, I will avoid an untimely death by never owning a swimming pool. Allusion aside, I have finally broken free of lost idealized love. I would describe the immediate aftermath, the longing, as similar to the spinning uneasiness that only a combination of cigarettes and stale coffee can provide. The next three photos represent my emotional progression:
My mother once told me ‘life is better spent with someone than alone.’ I will not refute the possibility of dying alone- perhaps highly likely for a person of my relentless cynicism. And there are definitely advantages to sheer independence. Even yet, I have been burdened with the onslaught of fresh smiling faces. Furthermore, I have been employing my tongue and larynx much more frequently. My newest policy is quite simple: transparency. Meet me. I’ve always been a proponent of sharing; in hypocrisy, I’ve forgotten to share myself.