I'm the kind of person who loves care but I'm also the same person who loves a bruise. An escape is a thrill but I also crave to fall. Indulgence is addicting but so is solitude. To see is a gift but being blinded enlightens me somehow. I long to reveal but certain things are best in concealment. Exploration is inciting but only in confinement can I hear myself. Pleasure stretches to a limit and then inevitably turns itself to sweet pain. So yes, I love incandescence but is loving it's absence a sin?

Because after all, it's all about experiencing isn't it?

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