Changed

From the outskirts of the town // Where of old the mile-stone stood,

Now a stranger, looking down // I behold the shadowy crown // Of the dark and haunted wood.

Is it changed, or am I changed? // Ah! the oaks are fresh and green,

But the friends with whom I ranged // Through their thickets are estranged // By the years that intervene.

Bright as ever flows the sea, // Bright as ever shines the sun,

But alas! they seem to me // Not the sun that used to be, // Not the tides that used to run.

the chef

food analogies that make my life worthwhile

I am torn.

There’s this part of me that wants to let you be, make you taste your own medicine and for once in my life, shut you out from my life. In as much as I have felt neglected, dismissed and taken for granted, I would like to grant you the same charity you have shown me.

I see no reason why you tend to be possessive, protective and downright jealous. You act as if we are chummy, yet, when everyone else is not looking, you are nothing but dismissive. I honestly cannot read you, worse, understand you.

The other part of me urges me to not sever ties with you. It pushes me to be generous, however selfish you are clearly becoming. You take and take until you are satisfied. But that’s the problem: you are never satisfied and I am just tired.

Should I just give you up completely and for once, look away? Or should I continue giving but not receiving any in return?

Is it reasonable for me to be selfish and find comfort elsewhere, where my love is returned? Or should I continue craving for your attention even if it is never enough?

I am tired of this crap.

You are my pastry: delectable looking yet filled with nothing but air, not able to fully satiate one’s hunger.

What I need is steak: well done, full of protein and could fully gratify.