Being Human

Being human was a hassle for me. I don't enjoy love. I don't trust momentary happiness. I fall in and I fall out of them painfully and tragically. Establishing emotional connections though is primal instinct, and a vital part of the human experience. I want to be above it all—but I am not. I am very much human. People are walking, breathing, physical collections of trouble. They're careless in the way that they interact, and withdraw and disconnect from each other's lives. They impose upon and wreak havoc; it's such a complete, disgusting mess. The invisible web of relationships they purposefully maintain are so intimately intertwined, strong and fragile, and undoubtedly destructive. It is both beautiful and hideous to me, the way they love, give, and take.