Wednesday, October 1, 2014


I've been thinking about glances, unverified glances mostly. They're these momentary things that have remained pinned up in the subconscious. They're always accessible for recollection, those silent intensities that have gone without clarification and yet, they seem to exist forever with their own kind of truth.

When I was younger, I broke one such moment to question how it's possible to even dole out such a charged gaze. The intensity, apparently, was intended to correspond with sincerity. Oddly enough, I walked away, determined that I would never trust those who "gazed". After all, what are intentions without words?

I harbour an ambivalent attitude towards such moments. I look forward to them, knowing that they lead to the most meaningful and meaningless moments of my existence. I want every meaning to be defined, yet their silence provokes a confidence that suggests that I really need no clarification. I am wanted...

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