there's that pounding again: blood flow rushing to replace; what exactly; in my face, it's an earthquake on the inside; every. fucking. time.

"The hesitations of High School have been dispelled." I admire the confidence in this line, the blunt facet it places in my reach: I also enjoy the smaller notion of high school being capitalized, almost as if it's a more solid thing but by being tactile it's just as easily set aside.

"There was no spark, just logic. Numbers met
and matched like magic, it wasn't a choice. The choices came later when a window opened haplessly; kismet please." No spark; just logic: by having a grip on something more substantial as logic, something that has a basis of theories and numbers and ideas all its own instead of a spontaneous spark that as swiftly as it appears is spent up by its very nature: is having that basis of logic rather than the ever-romanticized spark, would it create a foundation of evolving theories that stimulates and continuously formulates its core while deconstructing it All in the reverse-space? would it: being logic and seemingly solid but in actuality is quite as interpretive and easily confused with something else be: a philosophy of something Greater than the spark?

[well that turned into a rotary of thought...]

continuing: "kismet please" adore this. i have this image of a calm confident palm outstretched towards Mother Kismet asking for her hand to dance.

why is the window hapless? what is hopeless in the journey that had barely begun - was it cursed by its very nature? or was it a preconception, perhaps on both sides?

"Her dependency on predictably social tenancies made her initially attractive, combined with her active ability of thinking outside the guidelines that support and restrict her friends" now this i can delve into: her need for foreseeable social trends and her ability to completely fuck the rules given to hold in [like a girdle - an unflattering corset of some sorts] and keep the sane shape of friends' minds. so: you love the manner in which she sees the pieces on the board, knows the game, she's got the lines running through her head and yet, she gives a sly smile and does what she wishes. because she can play the game so well she can toy with others' minds just enough to get what she wants and yet make them feel like their universe hasn't imploded? or because she knows the risks, she knows the danger, and she takes the gamble because in the end...it's worth it for her [perhaps]

"Sincerity increases severity. The higher you climb the farther you fall. I usually won't take personal risks like this, cynical and thinking
that no one is worth it at all. Something inside me has changed and you are the one to blame." it's so conflicted, which is what makes me adore it more, it's very human. real. "sincerity increases severity" how intensely ... sad, and almost hopeless: it's as if your mind is made up before the honesty has spoken. for that's what it is: honesty, integrity, truthfulness, a genuine being; THAT causes or increases or pulls the end nearer, it corrodes the essence of it all? what could be so horrifying about the truths in your life, in your mind? what could be so degrading or disgusting in the truth that would ply your newfound "logic-spark" apart from you? the truth: there are demons, mischievous devils, sunken nightmares, shameful phases, in each of our lives. it is finding a person who reaches for you after that darkness has fallen, who has breath after you've taken it all away, who Knows and does not turn away, does not run, but waits with you until you understand: they are not leaving because of that truth.

[god, i sound like a fucking soap opera...]

anyways: "Something inside me has changed and
you are the one to blame." i like this last line: coaxed an image of nimble hands turning a key within someone, however cliche that sounds.

Alright: i just thought it was time someone commented on this: i enjoyed it, have been for some time now, and it deserved some response; whether incoherent and raving, it's a response nonetheless.