Be careful of the webs you step into my child. Be even more cautious of those you spin. I see people throwing the fight every day. We owe it to ourselves to try and not be among them. Someone delivered a fast-rising aversion to countenance to my doorstep over the last three years. I trip over it daily, rushing towards my morning commute. It's sometimes a chore to keep it between the lines instead of yanking it across lanes, trying to induce chaos or rather, succumb to it.
All you need is a slow steady hand. I'm going to show up tomorrow to confirm the validity of this claim. If I could teach you anything it would be just that. To make something instantaneous that takes time and weathering is to do it an injustice. When the nervous butterflies leave, it careens wayward, so why wave them away? Let them stay as long as they please, and take residence among the consent of our youth. Jesus...
I'd caution a smooth smile and a pretty face. They won't get you everything. They'll get you out of the blocks faster, but you won't learn anything unless you open your eyes. I'd caution myself against turning into a sad-sack martyr for the self-styled fashionistas and starlets around every corner, but I seem to be a magnet for that shit. A summer-long love affair that runs out of gas can leave you starring blankly ahead and half-panicked. When I open you up and spill you on the floor we find quite a mess, don't we? Especially when we mix it with what's inside of me. It becomes an untidy house. That's why I had to wash my hands and walk away. You listen too closely to your traveling road prophets and they leave you with empty counsel.
It's easy to be deceived, but harder to be aware of it. Certain methods are unexplainable to me, and it's all a matter of perspective I suppose, but I'll take mine any day. I can't help but feel pity for the things you're missing. Life isn't ones and zeroes, and it's not black and white. There's quite a large gray area at play. It's not attainment or material. It's visceral and instinctive. Before the paint dries it shines and reflects the room. Later it collects dust. I remember anxious words and worried looks like a drunk who's rather unexpectedly hit the bottom of his wine bottle. There was no witness to it but me. I think it's the first time your weakness has seen light. To think I once heard, "I have no insecurities." To which I replied, "Oh yeah, how does that feel?" On the contrary me lady.
On paper, it should've worked.
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