Member-only story
I am a Pragmatic Dreamer.
Dare me!
My ability to separate reality from dreams is evidenced in my love for poetry having been overlaid by that of philosophy.
Be it as it may, the two still overlaps.
And I am confident in both.
No doubt.
A nonpareil entity lacks no confidence, as his ways are nothing short of the ideals he requires of himself.
I starve myself to prove a point to myself.
What did I earn?
A stale brownie.
Cheese, on the contrary, never becomes stale.
It’s like the scent of ink.
For starters, my words are symbolic to something.
I can divulge the meaning over a tea date.
How about that…?
I wish you could sense my efforts in a way I have chosen to disallow your sensitivity to elude me.
I have reached the threshold of pressing hard to mitigate the thought of experiencing the taste of your lips.
How redundant you have made my thoughts to revolve around my serial stares at your admirable self.
My penchant for cheese gives me away as a passionate kisser.
