Dour patch kids

When asked about small arguments and petty tidings between the forthright constituents of a relationship, the wise man replies that it is an altogether paltry effort to merely give up, and that the path of least resistance should be followed. In practice, wisdom is to be completely ignored for the very poignant factor of human contact and the absolute necessity of companionship. A light breeze and the sway of the sweet Southern clime remains piecemeal in comparison to that same zephyr when played out between a coupling eager to rub up against soft skin and nearly ethereal hair.

There is no rift, only the illusion of distance between an intertwining primarily illustrated by the breadth of air pushing through their cores, when in reality the truth plain to those with open spirits is that the only distance between two humans is internal, and when the workings of the mind coincide, the rhythm of the hearts begins to beat as twain become one.

Could I ever begin to explain how that realization impacts one's thoughts? I don't think I could do it justice with the written word or a perfectly constructed picture, for both can reach primacy without illustrating intimacy, which is the key. For someone who can neither play an instrument (besides the occasional paralleled whistle-stop) nor compose beautiful words, it's enough to say that often times the unexplainable rushes in evolution to the unforgettable in the blink of the mind's eye.

Perhaps I shoulds stick to the occasionally produced bits of gibberish I've become accustomed to churning out in dispassionate sloughs with weeks in between. It's either that or this, knocking out a style and attempting to find one's voice in the struggle between Victorian prudence and the modern fancy for 21st century candor. The kind of honesty that says that the author of this post hesitates with certain clothes in the morning in fear of looking a bit too chunky, and that certain meals skipped are in honor of this fear and in commemoration of the dedication to burn each cell alive like eugenics on the molecular level.

I'm using a laptop on a desk in a musky, harshly-lit room right now, directly in front of the desktop I was using naught but a few days ago, and I'm beginning to think I forgot the point of portability. It seems like with most things handed to me I revert to the commonplace, all-American past-time: apathy. Well, the truth is I do care, and heartily at that. So the witty retorts and remarks bent towards sassiness are just marks of discomfort and insecurity, as they are the case in most that tend to snap at their fellow men.

Remember, fools rush in, but it's of tantamount idiocy to attempt to effect a change in human nature, and let's be clear: we are all fools. The first step in fleshing out the full extent of our foolishness is accepting it and moving on with our damn lives. After that, we can all be merry fools and stop having to worry ourselves into high blood pressure and plummeting health in a time when we should be shuttling past Mars. Then again, this could all really be Obama's fault.