A work in progress.

This is the world I live in, where smut has replaced romance and uncouth blatancy has replaced mystery, but then again, wasn't "romance" just another name for control and deceit?
My hobby used to be people watching until they all became sort of a gray colour, washed out. Everything is so easy now a days and no need to tend to the details everything is always "just fine" and "that's good enough" along with a fix of different hormones brought upon in the easiest way possible. I'm no better, but I feel remorse for the loss of effort and abstract beauty and it's lonely looking for another one of my kind; someone that still has some colour in them and stands out, like the imperfect ones. I wish they could see it like I can, but they're too pre-occupied by perceived beauty bombarded at their eyes from anything but the mirror. Like the "nerdy" boy on the street that walks with no self-esteem and doesn't wear clothes that are quite fashionable, or the chubby girl with glasses on the bus holding her bag to her chest like a sort of comfort blanket. I wish they could see it, but then they might not be so beautiful anymore.

<3Dil.

At last we meet again.

A clear mind, blurred eyes and tarnished soul-
nothing more beautiful than the image in the mind.
Always dreaming and afraid to wake - reality is never what you think.
No such thing as perfection, just merely the illusion,
the scale of imperfection, and the mask you wear.
Inner and outer beauty - hardly ever both.
Do you wear your hardships on the outside, or keep them concealed?
Perhaps one day it will be revealed...
until then, keep hiding, and smiling.
Reading,
writing,
and escaping.

<3Dil.