Cast

Cast judgment upon others. For it is by the hand of this judgement that the first spade of soil is tossed over graves. It is this judgement that polishes the pedestal of foolishness, anchors the mind in the bay of self-righteousness, and secures the blind before the might of fallen guillotines. False modesty is the spade, the brush, the anchor, and the eyes that see no end.

Don't

Maybe we're better off acknowledging that love might not exist in the conventional form that we've wrapped and bowed ourselves to. If love were like colors, the heart a screen, hit system settings and check how many colors yours can display. Twice have I plowed through snow, rain, thousands of miles, concrete constraints, and innumerable warnings against the obvious, twice have I realized that illusion, conviction, determination, suspension of, unwavering, immobilizing drive to the west, to the one who I can't look away from. And what's mist. Missed. If you can't walk through it and arrive on the other side colder, cooler, refreshed; controlled loneliness lead us through. I don't want to give in to the next, I've put on your shoes, maybe I'm done believing. Someone said they didn't want to keep protecting themselves from feeling love if, and I said okay, but don't let it be me.