My misspeakings cause misleading misunderstandings generating obfuscating obstructions of logic and reason.
After we talked, you felt sorrow and I felt frustration and neither of us noticed the reason.
It was all words though.
Now I know.
My appropriations of others' creations in faulty descriptions led to misshapen understandings disabling our conversations.
I became the person whom I hated when I was eighteen so that the person at fifty could have a new conversation
With strangers who cared little
About things I cared about.
These ramblings of linguistic acrobatics generated by a mind who needed a new lexicon brought our society down.
It was too easy to forget myself in the quest for an absolution that would only bring an identity crisis and misery.
I am simply an astrologer without a window to the stars anymore.
Someday, I will go to the gallery showing my friend's paintings and tell him that I love him and his work.