Jealousy

I can be so jealous of you that I dream about you. I dream that I am different people around you; people that you would have surround you.

The pain of jealousy is that in hindsight, it could have been anyone. I remember how you almost killed yourself. The pain of jealousy is that really, there are thousands of people like you and I could have fallen in love with any of them. So what’s so special about it? What makes me so unique? If my thoughts and urges are so general, what happens to my individuality?

Fuck Descartes. If I am because I think, what if billions share my thoughts? What is everone around me share the fire and the lust and the passion and the intoxication from life that fuels me? We are thinking together, so what are we?

I am therefore I am?

No.

I am jealous of you because you are the antithesis of me. You are everthing that I hate in boys my age and your everyrthing I am not, but hope to be. I am jealous of you because you belive so strongly that your thoughts are yours and you live without thinking.

Mostly I am Jealous becasue you look better with your shirt off.

In the end things really are just as simple as they are. There is nothing special because hundreds of people get turned on by you, I’m guessing. Things do not have to think to be, things just have to be to be and that’s all.

I always wanted to be you. But what’s thinking?

Where the hell are your thoughts when they belong to everyone?

©JMM