Intentional Complacency

People are disappointing.

Contradictory, unreliable charlatans who dupe you into a false state of security. Naivety, it seems, can blind even the most acutely aware of minds.

A flimsy, artificial veil, silently shrouds and encompasses all that surrounds, all that appears, is not so. Promises made, categoric assurances to be more considerate, more attentive, to be open and frank. To do better. To be better. Words cascade, effortlessly overflow, verbal bonds of unification collating to forge a temporary platform of neutrality.

Emotional investment weighs heavy, echoes of a reoccurring failure are once more regrettably present. The irony is palpable, if one buys into karma, then I am the bitch. The consideration of others, comes at the expense of your own. Perhaps a frigid, aloof and self indulgent exterior is the required protocol, it has served me well in the past.

Am I too aware? Are my expectations too high? Am I insecure to the point of distraction?

Readjusted morals have taken precedence, a starring role in what was prospectively the main attraction, the holy grail of meetings. The kind that had, so far, eluded me for almost forty years. It has been anything but plain sailing, misjudgements, miscommunication’s and resentments have been more than familiar, are my demands too much for someone so young.

Laugh, I nearly cried, for the first time I enjoy the laughter, I enjoy the punchline. Never have I enjoyed another’s wit as I do now, one of many saving graces. Statuesque, simply beautiful, the eyes, the eyes, the eyes. The grass has never seemed so green in my own back garden.

Idle, lethargic, inconsistent and cold, the fleeting moments are now an ongoing reflection of what is, fluid and continual. Assurances made, and once more, ignored.

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