Tuesday, February 06, 2007
And All the Colors Mix Together to Grey, and It Breaks Her Heart
No this is how it works, there are some people that I like some times and don't like other times and that just means that when I don't I have to remember the times that I did.

The way we compromise everything that we might or might not be isn't really a compromise at all, because you can't compromise fiction that never had any basis in fact. It blows my mind how we could all so easily imagine that we become that which we pretended to hate under the facade that we have now learned to love; we are ridiculously moldible and you more so than him. I don't know if we'll ever learn to live with who we actually are instead of consoling ourselves with who we can so brilliantly pretend to be. There's some tangible pride for something that the actually honorable will never attempt.

It will be awful that those pedestals on which we pose are much easier to stand on than we make them out to be.


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