Everyone Loves A Dead Horse

(Dedicated to the dead horse I kicked a few entries back. R.I.P.)

You see, my experience of life conflicts with my experiences in life.

I want experience as in not of.

I want to feel and experience the complications of my experiences in language.

In other words, I don’t want another romantic comedy.

Loving means letting go.

If I let go it’s not fully mine (precious) anymore.

Even the dead horse (precious) should be loved.

Without a dead horse my world is sketchy.

But there’s always another one around the corner.

What not:what is.

Or bad:good.

Or I don’t like to get my feet wet.

Overstanding beats understanding hands down.