how lucky we areto have bad days to know that if this isthe worst it will betomorrow can bebetter
why are you afraid of losingwhen you are already so lost nothing is owed to younothing is promised so know thatthough no one is here to helpfind the wayat least no one is here to hurteither lose oneself in oneselfeven if lostespecially if you are the only fear, really,is that after it allyou will findnothing … Continue reading
it was really simplewasn’t it do not shy away from joydo not shirk awayfrom the grand responsibilityof living your lifesimply and a littleirresponsible
if i amto leave youwith anythinglet it be this great loveleads togreater loss for with that truthgreatest of alli have actually nowleft youwith everything let it belet it be
soonit will be time to go and people will forget the softnessthat your eyes once nurturedand they’ll cease hearingall the hoopla you musteredand no one will recall the gleeof you announcing on a random dayperhaps on a monday like todaythatthis will be the daythat one dayi will describe as the days until, someday,perhaps on a … Continue reading
at besti don’t often say the right htings usually i put my left shoeon my right foot by mistake my body moves by itselfcommonly when sleepingand i jolt awakestartled by my own boisterous being but for a little whilei dreamt beside youwithout shoes or socksor anything reallyand it was right to sayi didn’t oftenfeel ebtter
the problem with loveis not that it does not lastbut that it precisely does hiding in your empty handfound in the way your soap shapesthere in your forgetting, toothere they areteaching you how to fosterpurposeful absence but then years lateryou will be greeted bythe steady soundof their life and you will remembereverything
the questionis not what youwill make of thissingular, treasured life it is who willyou make it withand who willbe there to treasure it singularlyafter the answersend
it was many years agoand i had many years to goand there aren’t many years leftnow anyways but how i still rememberhow to sketch your face how it felt to be closerthan the page to charcoalnot worrying about how many yearswe’d draw out of thissoon to be still life
it is sillybut i am still stuckbelieving in an impossible world where things aren’t so loudwhere there is equal measure of sunand skyand where love lives a little longerthan loss