The Superego Candidate

One of the shittiest things is that when you fell in love with someone you know you might never have nor ever be with. And yet he is out there, standing and existing before you. The buried longing for his psychological presence has long resided in the unconscious, compensated by sobering fantasy. His spirit constituted an ideal that get my ego from time to time bend to its knee. It judges you for he, who, you look up to, belligerently admire yet saintly envy. He beckons strength. His untrammeled teaching and wisdom in the past stuck with me, without me attending to, it already deep infused in my personality. Moments wherein I got to wander and travel inside his mind appeared to be so cathartic that now and then all of which gathered takeaways run through your vein enough firmly — mechanising the very being of your life to carry on.