Sunday, May 15, 2011

If you've got an art, stop neglecting it.

The cursor on this page tortures me. It begs me to type... to type something worth reading. But, I'm just staring at it. I have nothing but vain things to write about, aimlessly.

Someone currently calls me, "baby". Is it the kind of "baby" I want? Is there love, honesty, and trust beneath those letters? I don't know the answers.

I currently call someone "baby". Is it the kind of "baby" he wants? No. There is love, honesty, trust... desire... so many damn things behind it. So many damn things he doesn't want. I know those answers. I do not have the strength or courage to act upon what I know. I cannot leave him. I'm trapped exactly where I am... always, trapped. I've given my heart to him, although he does not take ownership.

Don't call me baby... don't waste my time.