unasked pleasure

Sometimes unasked pleasures are mapped out in front of my eyes. They just appear, almost in protest to my current reality. Although enjoyable, these pleasures cause more trouble then their initial worth. And yet I find myself longing for the trouble.

Every decision taken has about a million potentialities. Each story is tagged with my name as reference, pointing fingers to which way to go. Hypothetically, I could take as many roads as my inception of this cosmic veracity permits.

But is it possible for two distinctly different entities to complete each other’s paths, intersecting long enough to measure the mutual experiences? Do we serve as each other’s quality control? Or is this my narcissistic attempt to feel a true belonging into the popular girl’s club?

Well there you are. We both tip toed unaware of each other’s true intent and stimulation, we both wanted the same prize. A simple longing to feel the sweet tangy burns of deviant behavior. To break the bind of smothering socialized oppression of collective existence. To be bad, to be free, to be burned in ecstasy.

You fell right in it…the place I was inches away from reaching.
Unaware-the whole experience seemed so innocent and pure to you.
I felt the burn, but not of pleasure.
I felt the burn of my own actions reflected on my face.
I changed colors with the sting of the truth.

Yet there is a distinct enjoyment of watching it, nonetheless.
Of watching the “what if… oh I see why not.” of it all.
I got the pleasure of knowing how short filled and empty the whole lot of it is-sometimes.