You’re not good for me. You’re not good for me. You’re not good for me, today. You’re not good for me, tomorrow. Why are you good for me?
Wrestling with emotional baggages of what could be and what’s not to be. I can accept such premises and ultimatums. But I can’t let this get to me – get to me towards disaster.
Suffering will be done alone, by myself, tormented by your beauty. A definition which I can’t de-program from my head, my brain, my heart.
Don’t tell me you are good for me.
Don’t get so devious.
You are not good for me.
“Can you be good for me?”
Confusion is the totality of not knowing yourself enough, and not knowing enough of the other. It’s that kind of poisonous brew that can be volatile. But at the same time, something that is irresistible. We’re some weird animals, aren’t we, sometimes?
This weird output from HHA is a fascinating study in an attempt at describing emotions from within. And we’re glad we took the ride.