Thursday, August 21, 2008

Chekhov's Lady, with a lapdog

When self pleasure raises above pledged commitments
the secret life pleasures take over the authentic
and the real colors get tainted by those imagined
so much so that the authentic arouses no curiosity
and the imagined becomes more real.

You then wonder if you really want the real back
or
would you rather acknowledge the fading memories
or
embrace the unreal altogether and above all?

Choice is yours. Please. Help yourself. But don't regret. Please. Ever been disappointed with endings? When does an ending end and a beginning begin?

[..craving for peace and beauty perpetuates our movements towards unity, regardless. So, why so serious son?..]

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