There is no room for doubt here. One needs to have faith in something, ANYTHING! Something to make you believe what you're doing today is right. It is justified, at least today. Maybe that's why I gave up debating in my first year of college. I am the most fickle minded person I met. My thoughts are disjointed and it has always been excruciatingly painful to take a stand. I could talk about something with the greatest fervor one day, thoroughly impassioned, and dismiss it the next. I'm a difficult friend, even more difficult a lover. I don't make sense. I run away. I scratch out too many lines. My headache is gone now. I've probably given you one.
The things I feel for, the things I can describe lucidly are perhaps too trivial for you to take notice. In a recurrent dream I'm crossing a bridge, following faceless people. I keep saying something, but there are these screeching sounds that take over and drown my words into nothingness.
I love Yeats. I love his poetry. In his time, Yeats created a world of his own that explained everything. I love Vincent van Gogh! Where else do you find such honesty on canvas? I would've married him if he was alive. I'd love him ardently. Every evening after supper, we would sit together and sip on wine, and look at the nameless walls on which his portraits would be hung.