subject: truth
time: 12:59am
music: the walk - imogen heap
mood: melancholic

even when the truth is, i still have dreams of unused rhetoric spinning in blank intangibles. it is a non-sequitorial clause, a different domain; this feigned fantasy of the reality i want you to see so badly. a repetition of the repetition of a constant constant; like maths and symmetrical equations just spinning around and around me. but what if i were to say it? what if i were to say something like...? - infatuation incapsulates more motivation than love does. this is wrong, but this is true.

this is so wrong but correct.

we may be living illusions but that does not make us magicians. out of our hats should come truths and morning coffee and unlimited coupons for free hugs and kisses. no buts - we have enough to make into papier-mache and construct hearts held together by glue. we hold them in our hands, fake hearts in fists.