things didn't start going awry until i start letting people move beyond the point where i generally turn them all away.
(loners don't keep love. we find it and hold it with a barely there grasp)
i don't do hurt well. i don't do lost well. but what i do, do well...is seclusion.
everything happens for a reason. i birthed an aquarian. the only child that i will ever have.
sometimes i tire of optimism. but then what?
"but then what" keeps me going. it always has.
none of my thoughts make sense tonight.
(god favors babies and fools)
as a child, i use to watch plastic bags blowing in the wind. would follow them until they reached a point i could not venture to, then imagined all of the people that they passed, all of the places that they traveled to, obsessed on where their destiny ended. i presently do the same with balloons that float beyond the clouds, both, envying and pitying their freedom. there they go, i think, soaring to heights man can never reach without tools, only to die the moment they're out of the atmosphere (cause life is morbidly ironic like that)...