If you can notice it once you really can't deny seeing it before.
You take a few steps back and try grab a wider view of it all while your colleagues hail their dying allegiance. Like a parade, only this time you're the only person working on the float, trying to grab every length of support rope before it flies away.
And as you refrain from intentionally hurting someone, you only realize it after the fact, trying to think of a better way to mask an apology with more sarcasm and indignity. It is through this small hole we're allowed to venture off into our own little worlds.
We remember how it feels not to care, burning minutes until the ashes accumulate into a swirling bowl of hours that strangely turn into months within seconds.
We've all allowed it at some point, holding onto the pressure can before it blows, and we've accepted their distracting increments of useless platitudes. Ignoring all of the niceties that we once found so glamorous.
People know it's bullshit, yet either they refuse to believe the facts, or ignore them hoping that the lack of recognition will make it disappear into the blue.
Aspirations are put on hold, hopelessly preserved and canned for consumption at a later time; we promise ourselves that we'll make the leap eventually. But we all know that very few of us really do.
I've asked for countless advice and the general consensus is clear; on the simple notion that your friend, being however discomforting or even awkward it might be to introduce romance into the equation, might very well be the only one who could withstand every one of your idiosyncrasies without wanting to bury you in the salt flats.
And though I've tried (as we all have), years have passed trying to patch old wounds only to discover massive blood loss from simple paper-cuts. My friends have scraped their knees against love and find it boring, frightening, and balls-out frustrating. A good number of us have taken the dive, and find the nested life predictable and quarrelsome.
Sometimes I wish things could be back the way they were. Waking up in her bedroom glaring at the clock hoping that time would somehow pause if only for just a day.
Morning waffles, and fighting over bathroom time, wishing each other well everyday as if it were the last time the two of us were to see one another.
People tend to forget the beauty in blindness and naïveté.
Listening to: flatbush zombies - glorious thugs
Playing: with time travel
Drinking: sierra nevada