She told me of my meanness on a Korean Street. My friend, that is! Years earlier, in a British glow, a lover warmed up to me on account of that meanness; she called it "confidence." But, rather, that eventually did not make any difference among the cursing and the anger. I am not a violent man...in anything but words. And as I shrugged off my friend on that Korean street I...knew she was correct.
What to do when that which people find most charismatic is also that which is most detestable? Who am I to be a philosopher? Then again, who the fuck are you...you bin of perfection? Because you don't know shit! He who loves little has little forgiven, right? Well you better start sinning if you want to learn to love.
Where is my head? This will mean nothing to my friend or lover, except, to say, that you mean the world to me and therefore I humbly plead to the universe...I'm sorry...(and will I ever resolve this undying tension?)