JackSolstice

Jesus Christ, Jack.

I just wrote something so fucking rigidly true and correct and right. And the whole thing would have made you rip your fucking heart out jut to stare it down. And to batter it with the hardest questions and accusations about all of the wrongs we commit against others as well as ourselves. When we leave our hearts concealed beneath our breasts to breathe and beat in precious homeostasis, in a cowardly attempt at protecting ourselves from being hurt, or bewildered, or set off balance and suprised!

What wrong de we commit by shielding ourselves from the unbridled potency of being terrified by one another. By our intricacies and what we might discover because of letting the terror of proximity subside in favour of true unadulterated trust and partnership.

It was fucking beautiful, Jack. Everytime I write something real I think of you.

The first draft is on paper. The second draft I typed on here. And I lost it. I lost it in all its bloody mother fucking honesty. And to recreate it from memory is a joke. A dishonourable, dirty, racist, joke in all. And to write it again is the most humorus attempt at plagiarism I would ever make.

I fucking lost it.
And it was as human as you`re always asking to see.

thankyou.

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