Taking Sides
December 26, 2008
Sometimes I feel that for every ounce that I love you, it must mean that I love myself less in equal amounts.
In my turmoil and doubt I am forced to take sides, pick. Am I with myself or against? And how can I rightfullybe expected to make this sort of decision? And so it goes that the conversation is never ending; an intellectual journey mapped out be Escher. This image I have of you is elegant but impossible, hypnotic and hard to buy into as anything more than a fantastic hypothetical. And yet still, impossible to look away from.
I
Entry Filed under: matters of the heart. .
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