"Be unassuming. Otherwise, you'll cry."
Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Some days I have this strong lamenting feeling about myself and the world. It's as if I am carrying a tremendous weight that's too cold for comfort. A weight that penetrates deep within the physical. I find this frequent occurrence peculiar. I wonder whether I should blame myself for not having the ability to be resilient and happy. I wonder whether this weight is something outside of myself; perhaps a collection of pessimism and disrespect I pick up throughout the day? I don't know. All I know is I don't like it at all. I feel that maybe it's triggered by something. I am actively working on getting rid of those triggers in my life. 

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Meaningless weed extremely root bound in your flower bed of perfect people.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Prayed for religion.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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You can hate me.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Me — i.e, jpenseur
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You make room.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Chinook pushing you away from where I want you to be.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
Whenever I see you, I'm called to do more and to be more in order to somehow pique your interest. To make you think that I'm a basket worth all your eggs. When we interact, it just feels so smooth and effortless, and I don't feel drained after conversations. When you speak, I can't help but admire you. I make an effort to listen even when my attention span is less than desirable; the net benefit for me just feels worth it. When you act all goofy, I want to just cover you in my arms. I daydream about how warm you would make me feel. I so deeply want to run my fingers along your hair and just take time to show you my affection. How wonderful would it be to be together? These, of course, are all just unrealistic desires. I know I can't be with you. There's just too great of a chinook pushing you away from where I want you to be. I do, however, appreciate that I can dream. 
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