My Actions

My actions are a result of my inactions. My words, from my inability to speak. My thoughts, my inability to think. I am a prisoner to my desires, and at the same time I am free to deny them. As Shakespeare once wrote, "While I threat, he lives; words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives." In other words, words delay actions.

My inability to act arises from my inability to speak; my inability to speak arises from my inability to think. And so the question is thus: What is it that makes me so? Aye, that is always the question with me, and to some questions there are no answers. But I have long since known the answer to this question.

It is the girl, my Aphrodite, that goddess whose beauty puts even the most beautiful mortal to shame. She is my everything, but to her I mean nothing. To me, she is the most beautiful thing that was or ever will be. How do I show her what I see, what I think, what I KNOW she is, even though around her I can not think enough to be coherent? I show her a mirror, she tries to point out flaws. I try to make her see through my eyes, and she pretends she's blind.

From here, the question evolves even farther. Should I do what my head says, which is inaction because of her situation? Or, should I follow my heart, and deal with problems as they occur? I have questions, but I know the answers. And, I am confused, but yet I have never seen clearer. What am I to do?