“What Will?”

I want to speak plainly, but I can’t. I want to, but I don’t want to because it would be best to confuse you with my words, these webs, my own hypocrisy.

How could I ever speak plainly about what matters most in my heart?

I have lived the life of a liar, one doomed to die.

I am haunted by insomnia, so I go for a drive deep into the night. There is nothing I cannot do, but this freedom actually limits me so that there is nowhere else to go but inside of myself, that irrational identity that only destroys everything I have ever learned about anything.

What good is all of education if my heart is broken?

I don’t want my will.

Amor is enough.