Thoughts from the graveyard.

[qwertynineofive]

I was not delivered from boyhood to be “beautiful”. And so this beauty I have forced upon myself is incongruent. Deserved? I suppose that depends on which version of myself you decide to ask, and through which lens he decides to answer you. Vengefulness? Maybe. But was it ever paid to those who dished their digs in my early years? It physically can’t be. You can’t turn back the clock.



Vanity is flippant and cheap. The deeper fruits of life are yet to be awarded to me from my efforts, so perhaps they are not yet earned. One hopes so. Otherwise what was the point? What exactly did I sell myself? What was it that I yearned for so badly. Acceptance from a crowd that I wouldn’t have liked for anything other than their likeability.



My years have not been wasted. This was learning. It’s pointless, and that’s what is so beautiful about it all.



I hope you can understand.