Do you ever think that we look so hard to find someone, that we actually miss that person? Instead of having real meaningful conversations, we sit silent, a room full of bodies pretending to watch the TV that’s on in the background, unable to think of any real conversation topic.
And we live, and we acknowledge our defeat, and we pass each other every day, just searching, hoping to find that ‘soul mate’.
I found you once, then we met up again more than 10,000 miles in the other direction. Happy, estatic, suprisied by our own emotions. And yes you have that persona that makes me want to try to express myself in better words, you are, unlike my usual world, intellectual beyond measure, and for an actor; but mainly maybe because our times were so short. Maybe because I wanted to say the important things, the better things in those 10 minutes you came by. I don’t know, you tried and I tried to get to know me better.
I think it’s that knowledge of doing the same exact thing every day, with the same exact people, creating problems that are really not problems. And then whatever creativity you had evaporates as if in knowing descent. And we never find each other because none of us want to find beauty in our misfortune.