Honey Cherry Tomatoes

Do you think, if I scream at my bloated stomach to flatten down, 60 times a minute, my dreams would hit reality? Because frankly speaking, my large-framed body is in excrutiating pain from the lack of food. Let's face it, I'm practically giant sized, and my stomach lives up to that expectation. I just, want to be thin. To fit in those vintage t-shirts, to not hide all that horrid fat under sweaters and cardigans. To be able to wear basic tees without being infected by the fear of being snarled by every person, disgusted at my disproportionate body. Salads and fruits and a chapati a day must not be "healthy" for a six foot tall man. You need to eat more, the family says. I say, in my heart obviously, by doing that, eating more, I'll look exactly like you, all of you. God. I miss those days where I could eat a twiggie without wanting to kill myself, or toast in the morning, or a bar of chocolate without studying the nutrition facts.

Some might claim I'm suffering from delusions, what, with my admittedly already underweight frame. But hey, the mind wants what it wants. Screw that, let's be honest for once. The mind wants, what it truly, does not want. Take for example two people with four children who are obviously out of love, and we're talking borderline hatred here, but still manage to stay together, and for what, because the fucking heart wants what it fucking wants? No, it's merely not accepting what should be accepted, the truth; that divorce amounts to public humiliation and much sneering from people who are probably stuck in some messed up marriage themselves.

Another example; a person so scared of falling in love, he falls for those he knows would only reduce his urge of ever loving. Cause hey, why suffer the pain of being alone, unable to love without breaking the boudaries of political correctness and social, moral obligations or whatever. One fake, unhealthy, and doomed relationship should be enough to kill the existence of any form of love inside you, but two of these, and you're basically romatically impotent. Oh how painful it is to close your eyes and see that person, that sadly, imaginary person who makes you ache with joy and feel pathetic sadness at the same time. You don't exist. Not in this world, in this surrounding. Even if you did, life itself would be at liberty, because when has going against the norm ever led to anything remotely good? Jack died in freezing water, Henry's whore was killed for abnormally being unable to have kids, and he too was killed just because he fell in love with him. These might come from movies we all want to not want to watch, but hey, they make perfect sense. But shouldn't love trump life? What are those (aforementioned) parents doing, sticking together when they know it's totally over. Well, I wouldn't know, I wasn't made yet, but I think, at one point, even if it was for a mere second, they might have loved each other. But no one said that would be permanent, heck I know its not permanent, I've had it on various occassions, and on all those occassions, "it" faded away the moment I realised how wrong right could be.

Oh, I love you both, I really do. Yes, I plan on leaving all of you the moment I gain a life, but I'll always love you. Some retard came up with the saying; "love is unconditional". Fuck that. Love is solely based on conditions. I love you, but only with sex. I love you my dear, but only because people are watching. I love you ever so dearly, but only because you're the only one who would love me back. I love you more than anything, but only because you made me. I. Love. You. But, fucking but this and fucking but that. Is love ever enough? Enough for, anything?

Oh I'll pretend I love you, and after I mentally abuse you, I'll beg for forgiveness, so I could mess with your stupid, pathetic head again, next week. In the mean time, I'll just insanely throw books across the room just because you touched my stuff, and threathen to kill you because you dropped my cheap laptop. And because I love how much I don't love any of you, I'll critisize your every move, because I'm always right, and so, no, you can't watch The Nanny or Seinfield because they're Jews, and we Muslims hate Jews! And of course I'm saying all this, all the while not really knowing why we're supposed to hate Jews or even worshipping Allah the way a person protecting Islam should.

Thank you, darling. In return, I'll pretend that I'm over you, and everytime you hurt me, you, hurt, me, I'll rant and talk shit about you, just to hide that secret, that secret that nobody must ever know; how i love you with all my heart, and how my life would be meaningless without you, how I'll never let you go and how I spend every second of my empty life praying that you, will never, ever, let me go. In the mean time, I'll bitch about my pathetic life, seeking sympathy from anyone who will listen, and even those who would not.




So who's more foolish? The Pretenders? The Delusional? The One in Denial?




We're all stupid. Plain fucking stupid.




p/s: I love you. And yes, I'm only saying this because this is what people do...




With <3 , IKJ.