Interior. Bedroom - Night. During this particularly still evening, amidst the chilly hours of the early morning I lay in bed thinking about my one and only True Love, Buma. The son I have not fully stopped mourning. To be honest I never will.
I will not go too much into detail since this is such a fragile topic of choice to me, but I will say that the void, cannot and will NEVER be filled. This is not, by any chance a form of hyperbole. Rather it is a very bold statement. A clarification, if you will.
It has finally dawned unto me, a piercing realization has unveiled itself. I have already had my one shot at love. Euphoric days those were, blessed with the presence of my beady Buma. Those being the best 6 years of my life. Enough love, given, received and reciprocated to last 10 lifetimes by my lad!
P.S
Nosey, is no longer a part of my gloomy life. His temporary acquaintance has come to an end. The honor of appearing on this blog, eradicated form here onwards. I had put him on a pedestal I guess. Obviously, no good coming of it. He just wasn't worth it. Any of it! No human is. It's a pity though, I really thought things were looking up...
The bleeding. Continues. Playing it's part in soothing what's left of my heart. Although mending, out of the question. A false momentary sanity takes over me.
My mind.
The very self-destructive powerhouse of this perpetual despair.
I can't help but think, I do need help. But then again, I cannot be cured. This darkness, it has become a part of me. Old friends, they try to show me. A colorful path that I should be leading on. Their attempts to unfold the beauty that life holds, only makes me question it even more. Though theologically making sense, I can't help but fall back. I know it's true, I know it all is.
But.
I cannot simply erase what I feel, who I have become. I'm so sick of all of this shit!
I know this blog should be more upbeat and chipper. These things I know, my inability to comply with modern day standards had already fallen unto me months prior from this day.
Instead I am left to romp in a poetic pool of ongoing melancholy.
- Gran(^•^)Dad
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