happy

Think of dandelions floating in the wind and yellow sunsets in warm summer skies. Think of blue moons on countrysides with stars, lots of stars lined together like they were meant to be. Think love, your first real love that put you in the clouds so good that you can still think of her now, smiling at you, telling you she loves you. Think of how good the love was. Think of punishment for your crime that left you- seeing black and white, gray moons, and red sunsets all year long till hell, you don't even know when.

Remember how good that was? how bad, how terrificly wonderful and tragic like the twin masks of comedy and tragedy. Soon you find yourself with a change in the plot where one leaves another.
Will it be you?

The terrific part of it all is that we expected it to end so perfectly and ideal, beyond our expectations to the point of grandeur. How wonderfully stupid and rose-tinted we were. Invinsible to the possibility of the inetivable destruction. We thought we were so clever, that we beat the odds, we were so fucking high that shit,- nothing else mattered because we were so perfect.

Maybe we need to think twice before buying the big diamond for yours truly. Diamonds. Hardest substance found in nature, they cut glass, suggest marriages, I suppose it replaced the dog as the girl's best friend. But can you really trust it?

but you're so fucking high, remember?

Jesus Christ, just seal the deal, but when it fails, I want you to read this. Then I'll laugh in my own self-absorbed shell of an excuse for a writer for finally being right for a change. I'll think of you silly fucks and I'll just smile with my lips pursed to wine before I turn this computer into my next midnight wack-job.