One who believes he is all powerful, but in fact, turns everything he touches to shit. Which is a superpower of sorts...just not the sort he imagines.
Friend 1: I think my boss is omnimpotent.
Friend 2: Oh, he's just a minor idiot. Nothing serious.
Friend 1: No, seriously. He's the absolute worst.
Friend 2: Compared to Donald Trump?
Friend 1: Point taken.
Puddin. Kissed the girls and made em cry. This girl craves the indifference he feels, very sensibly, some 30 years on and still grieves, even though it makes no sense to her to do so. A Georgy Porgy is one of life's great teachers-- that just because something feels it must be mutual, in the way that 1+1 must always=2-- it ain't necessarily so. That it never is mutual, in fact. Even when we are fortunate enough to love mutually, there are still 2 loves, and they aren't the same. That these bridges between us are such fragile things, and that perhaps you don't really know what it is to love someone until they really are lost, over a lifetime, and yet they still haunt the corners of your consciousness. That even when you know all the reasons and all the lessons, those feelings are immune to rationality. That you can be truly happy in most ways and still harbor some deep well of sadness which offers to drown you from time to time. That you will never have resolution, whether you accept that truth or not. That nothing ever makes sense, maybe, unless there really is a red thread that binds us all. That life will go on. That you will love more widely than you ever thought possible, and you will have joy and outgrow grief, but never quite lose it as you thought you would at 18.
Georgy Porgy, puddin and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry.
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