I write a lot of things that I never finish, this happens for a lot of different reasons but I thought I would post this one up. I may finish it at some point.
Dear Ms Perfection,
You see in my dreams you are clear, the understanding we have is almost telepathic, words are not needed for us to express our anger, joy, sorrow or love that we share for each other. Words would do an injustice to the bond we shared, if any foolish poet tried to lay our love down on paper, he would fail. If any director tried to show our connection in a film, he would be lost, not knowing how to portray such uniqueness, he would totally and utterly baffled as to whether or not his audience would get it and this would be the problem. You see our bond is not for an audience to merely “get”, to outsiders it’s as if we speak Martian or act in Charlie Chaplin movies, they believe we are so backwards when in truth they just don’t understand. And it’s because they don’t understand that they criticise, and the more they criticise the more we embrace.
We laugh when others cry and when others smile we never wonder why, to focused on each other to care how others act. And it’s not even like we suffocate each other, you know like those other silly lovers do. Our love isn’t tragic like one of those Shakespeare plays and it’s hardly conventional nope we do it our own way. Perfection isn’t real but if it was they would put a picture of me and you together.
You see in my dreams you are clear, the understanding we have is almost telepathic, words are not needed for us to express our anger, joy, sorrow or love that we share for each other. Words would do an injustice to the bond we shared, if any foolish poet tried to lay our love down on paper, he would fail. If any director tried to show our connection in a film, he would be lost, not knowing how to portray such uniqueness, he would totally and utterly baffled as to whether or not his audience would get it and this would be the problem. You see our bond is not for an audience to merely “get”, to outsiders it’s as if we speak Martian or act in Charlie Chaplin movies, they believe we are so backwards when in truth they just don’t understand. And it’s because they don’t understand that they criticise, and the more they criticise the more we embrace.
We laugh when others cry and when others smile we never wonder why, to focused on each other to care how others act. And it’s not even like we suffocate each other, you know like those other silly lovers do. Our love isn’t tragic like one of those Shakespeare plays and it’s hardly conventional nope we do it our own way. Perfection isn’t real but if it was they would put a picture of me and you together.
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