Romance of the fonts
As the bitter winds bite my flesh, soft strings clip against my hard heart. Oh how these days seem so bleak, always tangentially familiar. Closer than family, more common than friends foreboding and sharp. Comforting and fuzzy. Often times so much bigger than myself, dwarfing all I have and want. I feel held hostage by them, thusly, I feel others are held hostage by me having them as well. Ideation another friend that I just cant stop flirting with, always there, always an escape option. No matter how grim these tunnels are its there, mocking me. My own personal ultimate enemy, so then, why don’t I hate it? Why is the shadow so attached to me? Where’d it even come from? If my own most hated enemy is a part of me then what does that say about me? Media can’t touch reality and my life’s so unique no one can truly guide me, besides, if I had the path and answers…..I’d probably fight against a few choices, like the novel “Misery” I might not agree with the ending. So this is life huh, never feeling more alive than when I daydream, never feeling more dead than when I’m not. Finding things to be “funny” but oh so wishing they were more. No wonder I’d want to escape. Have you ever really looked at the words as you typed them? Each letter is a complex process being accomplished with no oversight beyond our own. These blank spaces and blinking cursors being our friend, calling for us at our own rate, our rush imposed purely by ourselves and others. Rows and columns of pixels changing their hue solely and completely for you. From ink to pixels ya gotta admit, it’s so romantic it’s almost impossible to be truly alone.