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Fleeting emotions

There are many ways to look at a person, sometimes our opinion of that person persuades us to see them differently. There are layers that you go through, when you stare at someone long enough. You can look from the perspective of an admirer, pulling forth every amazing aspect of them, they're beauty and creativity, and their wonderful smile and that glint of life in their eyes. The fact that with every tiny smile that they make, you feel like you're flying, and that nothing can stop either of you right now. And then if you keep looking you can see them as an aquaitence, as if you just met them on the bus, they're a mystery still, unexplored in your mind. And if you look even further, you can reach the level that they see themselves, their selfconciousness. When we look into a mirror and see our flaws, it's because we've looked long enough to realize what we think is bad, most people don't see it. Eventually the creases in their face come out, the bags under their eyes have just caught your attention, you realize they're actually really tired inside, and that behind that glint of life in their eyes, they're crying for companionship. And still, if you look further, past the complex system of carbon you realize that they are no more flesh than they are the air, and the person you're really talking to is their spirit, or soul. Or atleast, this is what we all hope, otherwise it would mean you're talking to their brain, calculated answers coming out of their mouth, answers that are just instinctively bettering themselves for survival. We all hope that we have souls, otherwise we don't have free will.

I am slowly escaping the clutches of reality, or atleast that's what I've been telling myself. Whether I'm reaching a new state of conciousness or just going insane, is still undecided. I can't stop thinking of the people I love, and the people I want to love. And I can't stop thinking that nothing else matters. But then those few minutes of holiness are gone, and I come back to my body, and remember that my chances of my dreams becoming true are slim to none. I remember, that I am ugly to what people today believe is beautiful. I remember that, just because I can love someone, doesn't mean they can love me. I remember that you don't really know me, you musn't, because I don't even know me.

But always remember that you are loved

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