Far From Perfect..

Romantic fools can be nothing but poets. But I can’t rhyme to save my life. As is evident, I haven’t grown up since the age when one thinks poems are poems only if they do rhyme. And my articulation leaves a lot to be desired. I guess that says a lot. So that’s a non-option.

Being just romantic is fine. You can remain in your little bubble all your life, romanticize the beautiful sights and refuse to scratch the surface even. If you are lucky, no disillusionment will be big enough or bad enough to permanently break your bubble. But being idealistic, emotional AND romantic is a tough life. The tears are always around to spoil any good intention you may have to create that perfect ideal setting you wish for. Seriously, anyone who is moved to tears at the least ranked in the list of kind gestures needs serious help.

I don’t even know if this makes sense. But this is exactly how I feel now