Expendable ...

I have met an unconquerable object. There is always a blemish, some dink in the impenetrable armor. Having insight into weird thought processes that border on the assailable and paying attention is the easiest way to find a way in or a way over this object. Its not on purpose, the maker doesn't do what the old Persians do. She doesn't put imperfections in her rugs to pay homage to a God. She works tirelessly to find a method of perfection; to be greater than herself. The result makes her flawed, conquerable.. expendable. Sometimes the object is a third wheel to an overdeveloped psyche. Those are conquered with mental mind-fuck dissection. The other unassailable souls fall through touch.  I think I may been conquered by both... I think loneliness has conquered me..