79. sepia
what's wrong with being sappy? i never understood that. it never clocked for me.
what's wrong with being a romantic? i never understood that. it never clocked for me.
what's wrong with living in dreams, daydreams and nightdreams and every single dream in between? i never understood that. it never clocked for me.
without realizing, i have been mastering the art of concealing my sentimentality, even to myself. the art of wearing the mask. and i point to others' sentimentality, their tearful, pitiful lake of emotions laid out in the open, desperate for attention. well, that could never be me, i might say. conceal and hide, and you shall find out, is what i tell myself, unbeknownst to a living soul.
which leads me here. now. always searching. always removing the layers. what's there? what's there? what's there?
you could say i dig for a living. i'm a professional digger. now how to make that sound sexy... well, isn't it already? don't you dig the sound of that?
so yes, i'm sappy. i'm as sappy as it gets. i'm sappier than a tree ever green. even the curtains and lamp next to me complete the room in a sepia hue. sepia, sappy, and sentimental.
nice to meet you! nice. meet. you. you. meet. nice.