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Vain Indulgence



For every lost pleasure in the vanity of indulgence remains wisdom in the innocence of chastity
Because there is joy in the process of waiting...abating the inevitable is patience knowing it’s place in chastening a heart that once quickened to action would flee in a million directions with haste its running would be ceaseless its eating relentless its kissing meaningless and it affections left nameless but perhaps only a head could be shaved once so in that bliss why not practice aimless indulgence
at least then when expressing in a moment of fleeting vanity the hatred you have for another you would look as foolish in form as you are in heart for theirs is not your emotions to own but your own...a torn soul once lost is not reckoned home by beating ones oppressors with words as contumely shaped as the wounds that by their harm you bare 
but then again you’ve stopped agreeing so surely this sentiment you will not share as it goes uncared as will everything by the hearts of those who jump so hastily for it is in waiting that we truly become a being it is in the stillness of silence that we breathe in everything and a scene is only seen when we rest in being
What blessed assurance that even in inaction I am a beloved human being.
This and this alone makes me sing.

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