You know (this is now an exercise), I can perfectly remember the exact moment when I lost all my faith in you, dear humanity. (pause. synecdoche, is said) I can precisely recapture the moment when you took my imagination and heart away. All of it. And it was not painfull, did you know?. It was just the starting of unconsciousness itself. Lack of spirit as in... simple indolence. I can now see the most great thing you have done to me: I laugh when I am supposed to cry and I cannot cry at all, unless it is not as serious as it really is to all my sensibility. (In that situation, I can almost see the pain itself in my skin - in all the inches of my skin - but not in my eyes...) However, I did notice one and proper thing today. I don't miss one of your fellas anymore. I don't feel scared to look at him, and I don't have the enough sensibility to cry about it. (this is the really really important and strange thing about my behavior.) I don't think it is his fault, neither I think mine it is, too. I looked at him - as in the picture of him that still remains in my head - and I really felt sorry for him. I felt like a giant wave of laughter was growing within me and... well, I cannot understand how, really. And I must say, still, that this feeling of pity was not as in "He really lost all the fantastic side of me and all that I could possibly be. How lame it is." but as in "I don't get it, he continues to be the same talented one, and he spoils it and tries not to be alone with it forever, as he he has always done since I dove into him." (I certainly should not feel that way about him.) But well, I then looked at him once more - in whatever way I was looking at him now (mind image/in front of me) - and I did that kind of automatic smile, where my eyes say "you really are a mess, aren't you?" Strange. Because I... I mean, it's too soon. And all of this just seems to me like I never liked you. At all, and... grwah. I mean, if I don't miss you, then I am certainly in need of a different conception of all that exists.