It's all a matter of sight.
He sees in me everything that I want You to see. Yet You remain blind to the very things that seem to attract him. I don't know if You see it and discard it as meaningless, if You refuse to admit that you've seen it or whether Your eyes never chanced upon it at all. What I do know is that His eyes are open. And He does see.
" Why can't You see me through His eyes? "
I knew it was You with my eyes closed, and yet You can't seem to see me.
Open your eyes.
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"Writing is a form of therapy; how do all those who do not write, compose, or paint manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in the human condition?"
- One Invictus
- Hypergraphia compels me to put down every unspoken emotion as it passes by.
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