29 September 2012
“That’s life!” they say, but watch as it passes me by as I sit on the sidelines and cry about not being able to focus on any one singular thing -except him.
My obsession, my most prized possession only somehow, I do not appear to possess the resilience required to cope.
The constant oblivion is driving me to distraction; self-destruction and yet, the rejection reminds me of the insignificance of that which I do possess in excess: letters, texts and digital images of you- the last remaining traces of reality- my reality, which is that our ‘so-called-love’ Is a tragedy,about to happen.
The Obsession With Possession • Opuss № I