The Simple Take

the descriptions of a malady, the end of everything. That all you know, want and need is but a mirage, that everything will fall and become still, slowly, surely regressive, and slide back into the bog.

I am a comfortable liar. Sorry guys, but i need it, i love it, i am.

the facades we place like a new masque of fate. the sideshow to our souls, the distraction from what is really there. those beautiful freaks, beautiful people, beautifully innane pieces of information that no-one really needs. but they would prefer to have, rather than see the truth.

No one really wants to see who you really are, no one really cares. they just love the idea of it. and so do you. you smile when its necessary, pick yourself up when you have to, and put your beautiful green glasses on, view all in technicolor. watch it all, as he says, as a beautiful photoshop moment.

but there is the one. the ones, who remove your 3D shades. they pick it up off of the floor, and instead of crushing it, swap yours with theirs, and put it in their pockets. you both know you're gonna need it later.

so don't smile at me if you don't mean it. don't laugh when its only business. don't kiss me when its duty. don't give me anything, because i asked. just leave. I have my own shields to maintain. i don't need to try force yours open either.

i am just like you. i need my own selfish space.