The un-seemingly random and connecting principals that are present between us are vast. I don’t want to think there is something more, because it would be the end of the beauty involved between the sparks taken between us. But then again if it is meant to be, or that we are that much alike to the point that it is uncanny in resembalance and agreement, then what would be the exception? Love? Or would this only breed an unspoken hatred, and the toleranting of each other to present a friendship that we once had, and long to have again. We laugh, we cry , we lend each other our shoulders , we don’t judge, and we seem so perfect for each other. The classic tale of beauty and the beast, where two unrelated and foretold backgrounds merge to create a perfect setting for love to occur in. A mere twist of fate that two individuals so in tune to each other should meet. It is a dog’s tale in the search for love. And I, without control, be the dog.

And with this I present the problem, without a solution. It is impossible to resolve this , for I have made a pact to her to never be the one that is hounding at her heels for a relation past friendship. An unspoken agreement , set into action the first time she confided in me her secrets. and I can’t shake those memories so I remain silent. As does she, for I do feel that she feels the same, only if age and looks and location wasn’t a factor. Or more dictating, our pasts. Only if, how we treated each other and the blessings we bestowed upon the others grace decided our fates, we would be eternally one. Yet again, this is the presentation of the problem.

Should I go silent? Should she? Would it be determental to us both if we spoke, For I’ve been told those that keep their mouths keep their tongues, and those that open wide , accept disease and pain. But touche this be; Those that keep their mouths keep their pains, and those that release their thoughts release their troubles. So what is the major difference between the two? Seemingly nothing. So why must we keep our tongues. To preserve something so gracious to our minds? It would be devestating to lose her, and if it takes me holding my words and beholding the pains of silence then so be it. For I’d rather endure this anguish for years than to absorb the bliss for a few moments of being hers.

And this is the moment of conception, for I’ve been carried in the womb of forgivness and blessing for the past nine months, Living off the structred and scripted stories of our lives. Its a comfortable repetition that I’ve come to sit well with. And perhaps its all just been disillusion and a psuedo experience, but it damn sure feels like a journey deep into self examination and experimentation. And even though projected onto me everyones flaws, I feel more of an individual and like I’ve been humanized. But as much as this anger and uncontrollable urge to exhert the truth to all listening ears, I know it’s not a negotiation, and I will remain quiet. So I lay my burden down, as she lays hers upon me, And for a split second I feel the rearrangement of the cosmic force that drives all life and existance, and a song called season flows freely through my thoughts. I feel a fever in response and the feelings of indifference override those of belonging.

This is a monumental moment, that of my conception, due to their only being two choices, I know it doesn’t matter, I’ll lose either way.

And this, without knowing is the resolution…..



Winston Salem, United States

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Artist's Description

Title describes it well.

Artwork Comments

  • ufosIsee
  • Retroeight
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