It numbs you. When you look at dewy-eyed lovers in their near-sighted aura walking and smiling in the snowy outdoors, you wonder what right do they have to be so happy when you’re not?

But you smile anyway. Young faces softened by the cold air laughing so carefree ….how can you not smile?

You close your eyes for a moment, and a pang like a deliberate stab goes into your heart, and you must walk away now…and forget…think of your art…remember that you never lost your youthful figure. And thank God that so far you don’t have or may never have children who would ruin everything.

At 44, one grows weary of the heartbreak. It is unfortunate. Nothing can heal it because those who are heartbroken won’t give up the only emotion strong enough to drive their creativity.

It is through heartbreak that we realize the next best thing to divine beauty: the devil’s systematic destruction of that person through the beauty of unfulfilled yearning.

It is not the next best thing; it is the next most moving thing.
It drives all demonic art.

I am too old to traffic in lies.


©2015-2018 Veekwriter All Rights Reserved

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