Prose, poetry, fiction, and rambles from people with a bit too much time on their hands.


What’s that feeling in the middle of my chest, around the sternum but above the diaphragm? It can’t be such a primitive thing as jealousy, I’m too advanced, too intelligent, too preoccupied in matters concerning the mind, how can some awful, plebeian notion such as jealousy of all things throw a dagger into my otherwise normal heart? And since when did I consider that, the most vital organ aside from the one causing all of these evil, simplistic thoughts, when did I consider the heart of all things as something more than what keeps me alive? When did it become what drives me to insanity? How did it replace the irrefutable logic and reason that can be found inside my brain? It’s that feeling, in the middle of my chest, as if a heavy hand is holding it back.

But her face, her eyes, her persona, her everything… When did this wondrous image become shattered and tattered by the mere sight of her with someone else? Someone entirely simplistic, entirely primitive, one who does not stand up to your mental acuity, and is not fraught with the constant paranoia, second-guessing, and irrational rationality that I myself consider part of a so-called daily routine. That knot in the middle of  my chest, that plebeian sentiment of jealousy as they carelessly saunter past me.

Don’t I have better things to think about?


One Comment on “envy”

  1. tiana says:

    what are you jealous of, greenparadox?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s