Honey, Come On Home

I am underconfident.

I will cry to my music.
Whether or not I am seated in a crowded 6 seater on a Connex train surrounded by
- 3 Pakistani men wearing matching Armani Exchange denim pants, jackets and Ferrari perfume
- an environmental business man with a receeding hairline, struggling to keep a straight face during the intensity of his mid-life crisis
- and an old Chinese woman with beautiful silver hair, lapping wrinkles and leek-and-durian-reeking plastic bags

Sometimes I wonder if I'm too observant or just too bored.

But I'm quite sure that you'll tell me just how I should feel today.

Well maybe I'm just tired, tired of never knowing.

'Cause I have found all that shimmers in this world is sure to fade.

It's throbbed for too long, I don't know what I want from you.
Keep talking cryptic love, no one will notice.
I will never want a husband to love me,
Nor will I want children to share this unconditional love with.
I don't ever want a family.
I don't ever want love.
It's just a four letter word, I don't believe it means anything.
I am a pessimist-though-try-hard-optimist dating another pessimist, just 'cause we get along like that.
"LOVE" IS FOR FOOLS THAT FALL BEHIND.

It's been way too long.
ginx vicioux