dolorous interludes.

Disenchanted thoughts

kept me from sleep as i lay awake in bed late last night. i struggled with the awareness of what i could be and what i am. I thought about all that i was, and all of menfolk's mild superficial perceptions of who i am, and was then struck by a wide eyed consciousness of what i want to achieve and want to be; an overriding stength of determinance and superfluous need for outward success and recognition for my innate abilities conquered my being and challenged what little Time i have left for success to materialise.

However, as i awoke this morning, all threads of motivation that instilled my quiet resolve faded as do all weak men who swear never to bat an eyelid at a naked woman, but eventually devour and sucuumb to bodily lust as they feed their instinctive desires. It isn't a matter of priority, nor an eventuality of what i can be but refuse to be; rather, where my heart lies prompts me not sufficiently so to achieve the full ends of yesteryear dreams and hopes. My days will pass me by and i will use them best i can till the remarkably overrated test of intelligence jolts all memory of strained remembrance; you can refuse me, but do not do me no justice by thinking that i am incapable of doing myself some good for now by being just the least, more serious and to put my seemingly trivial joyrides aside.

posted by voyeur @ 11/12/2004 05:42:00 PM