You waver before me. How dare you.
Is the significance of my goals not worth your utmost acumen?
When will we diverge into the same lake of being?
Why have you forsaken me to a state of deplorable obscurity?
Are my goals not worth your utmost acumen or have I camoflauged in with all bland things you gratefully forgot?
With that forgot, you aught to have erased my poignant thoughts of you, panging and shearing my already unstable mentality.
Sweet liberation, your name truly is Forgot but you visit me not.
How cruel is the lack of tongue and touch; how lonely is lack.
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-Confucius had his Analects and I have my journal-
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