Yes perhaps I should

I would do my best to give her

Everything I could

Her hair is like spaghetti,

Long yet so tasty

Such beauty in one person

Perhaps I should not be so hasty

I would buy her some flowers

If only I had hands

And I have raised myself upon this platform

Lest I be buried in the sand

Would she look down upon my body

With its dark brown and formless shape

Its round yet distorted

Not perfect like a grape

My skin is not smooth,

like a rich person's daughter

its dotted with black spots

And gets wrinkly with water

True love knows no boundaries

That is what they all say

But the truth is there is a limit

Thats why I am alone till this day

It is too much to ask of love

Too much it is so

For love is destined to never happen

between human and potato

For were she to walk,

She would have to carry me

And read books to me to listen

Since I have no eyes to see

So I sit on this bench

Alone in my solitude

Perhaps it would be better

If I were a fruit?

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Uh, don't ask

Just another starstruck (see above for evidence*) wanderer trying to find his way in this horribly confusing and sometimes messed up world.

This space as you might have realised is for my own venting. It's where I talk, to myself. To the universe. It's where I don't lie. Much. Chances are you won't get more truth out of me than these few billion pages of angst.

My life isn't that bad. Sometimes. The good parts just usually end up being the blank dates in between the posts you see. So yes, just to practice my math and to cheer myself up a little, the number of posts is inversely proportional to my mental wellbeing. Yes that counts as math with me.

And despite the wry smile on my face and the grin I can imagine on yours, I'm still rather sombre.

I promise you I'm sunny somedays. Stick around. You never know what you may learn.

*hint may or may not be in big black font at the top of the page.