I quite literally have no desire to be with another person as of now. The only sensations driving me revolve around lust. I am bearing an undesirable weight, and how it maddens me! in ways untold. I fear a repeat of past lover's endeavors, and i must admit i will not be ready until my life begins to rapidly cool like this premature autumn. I maintain a certain agony here, in this season, that remains unforeseen; and i lack the experience and knowledge to put it to rest.

The staleness of existance is quite disturbing now, like this paradox called my life--It is blatantly wrecking me. Life will move on and forth as an infinite river, but that makes no difference for the sake of stability and comfort.

I can absorb and digest all that comes my way, but such stale agony never seems to pass. This cruel grasp only tightens.