I always draw parallels
by Chua Han Au
I think I now know how it feels—to be painfully misguided by another’s equivocal actions: of concern that stemmed from passion not but with a heart only pure and intimate. I parallel everything in films to the grim impossibilities; I listen to lyrics more closely, of which my understanding has risen to a patient and doleful comprehension.
Everyone seems highly content with company! excessive mentions! great smiles! what joy! there’s bliss undefined in the restoration of a dilapidated house together and then making it home; meaning in soulful company notwithstanding sharing individual interests—like an engineer and artist speaking about their métiers. (how selfish, but welcoming at the same time)
I think I want to speculate no further, I want to speculate no further. Oh, so let biology work its way: flourish or fetter, regenerate or reduce, batter or better—laissez-faire.