Satisfaction is the Death of Desire

"So how are you doing brother?"

"I'm good..."

"Yeah? Is that because you're actually good or is that an automated response by now?"

"Essentially automatic."

"Where are you at then man?"

"Its just hard for me to receive responses from the actual person. Dont get me wrong, it gives me a lovey dovey blushing feeling when I see a response at all.. but.. its a little more heart breaking. It just reassures that all the positivity I took in last year is accurately connected to the real person, and not that crazy monster. It makes me keep wishing and wishing that someday, I could just experience a heart to heart with her.The real her. Really pick her mind.... She's just such an amazing person... truly beautiful... and I can't help but feel like I'll always be missing out on something..."

"Thats got to be difficult. I'm sorry brother. I can't even start to understand how that must feel to differentiate the two people. But...

I know this isn't going to be much consolation, but for what its worth- she's perfect in your eyes. You don't have to deal with the other side; the people who come up to us after shows thinking we have all the answers and don't get that 'we are not the poems', we are works in progress. We are a bunch of insanity wrapped in pieces of enlightenment and people who see us on stage or in shows dont acknowledge that we are flawed, messed up human beings. Even though we're literally saying it in our pieces, the audience still wants to put us on this never ending high standard. At least you don't have to see that other side to her. She is perfect right now and maybe its better that way..."

"Yeah..."