we all know what’s good for us. we know the right things to do, the right foods to eat, the right way to live our lives. we all know it, yet 8 times out of 10 we’d rather do the opposite, while the good little angel on our right shoulder fights furiously for our attention and we block our ears up with stubbornness.
she blocks up her ears every time they tell her that she deserves better. because somewhere underneath the mask he shows the world, she’s taken a liking to something about him that overshadows his annoying indeciveness, his inability to express emotion unless prodded, and his seemingly constant nonchalant demeanor.
so she can’t explain what it is about this unconventional bad boy that makes her turn her head from the people giving her the best kind of advice. they say he’s got her mind clouded and her insides hot, but its really not what they think it is.
it’s not his midnight, midday, all day magic, if you know what i mean. it’s not his turned up and always turned on swagger. and it sure isn’t honey sweet and honey smooth words they think he might be pouring into her mouth and ears. it’s not what they think.
it’s something she can’t figure out no matter how many nights she spends awake, or how long she stares at him. it’s not his face, and it’s not his body, because these are things that are only exciting when they are novel. and because she can’t explain it with words, a picture or a sound, they believe she’s in above her head.
so everyone has something to say, and something they know, and something they’ve heard. and like the good little angel on her right side they fight furiously for her attention, and quickly fail miserably. the adrenaline rush from mere thoughts of mr. no good drum up her heart so loud and drown out their pleas to do right.
and as even he reminds her constantly from behind the clouds of smoke from his cigarette that he’s no good for her, it seems that her drumming heart drowns him out too. because something bigger overshadows it all. so she spends a few minutes before bed, thinking and turning the thought over. she comes up with a list of pros and cons – with a longer lists of cons than pros, and despite that she closes up her notepad and instantly forgets all the cons.
her common sense defeated, she closes her eyes and her heart starts up again. louder and more energetic than before, as if it’s drumming up a victory song. her head murmurs in disappointment at the total disregard for rationality and begins it’s shut down process for the night. “at the end of the day the heart wants what the heart wants,” it sighs, “and not even the control unit of the body can change that.”