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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1886208-Sort-of-confusing
Rated: E · Short Story · Men's · #1886208
I should not say anything about this. Please, disregard these words.
"Why?"

It was a good question. The most potent weapon of the tongue, questions have this irritating quality of requiring answers. Let's see now, why, why ,why. Well, grammatically speaking, I should start with a phrase of the breed "because". But which answer shall I choose. There is some context that should shape my answer for me, but in cases where there is such a plethora of context the fact that I have to surrender to a certain uncertain answer is certainly an issue. So what say you gut? Is it her looks? Spirit, heart? The two combined or something else? Say it's the looks then. I would appear shallow in this scenario and I will either claim that I do not care or deny being shallow, both not angling towards falsity and truth at the same time. What if I point character as the culprit? Is that not entirely subjective? As a matter of fact, are not looks entirely subjective as well? In any case, whichever I pick, I must formulate the sentence properly. So if I say that her appearance is the reason, then I need to say that in a manner presenting me less like shallow and more like a realistic person who accepts that he is partly shallow. This means I am bound to invoke modern men philosophy. Does that make me a philosopher? No, no, a subscriber, but not quite. I mean I am only exploiting this so as to appear less bad in the eyes of someone who is bound to view me as not good at the very least. Forsake subjectivity for now brain. Less philosophy, more thinking. So, why? If I did not despise cliches it would be so easy, but I guess in such situations my comfort can't help but receive less than high priority. And are not the very words nothing. Sadly I can never instill my mood into these confounded letters. I despise them too for being too poor. A little bit of megalomania. I think in words but my thoughts are more than words to me, to some other people as well. Back to her, so why, why, why, oh why is it that I can, simply can't let her go?   
© Copyright 2012 Frankie Deangelo (frannkythinks at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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