shackled to this frosted season the ocean roars its loud disdain to a snow-deaf world
That Was Yesterday
Love grows high and wide, Time grows long and gray, You gave me your best That was yesterday Beautiful the world Sad the moments clear That was yesterday Back when you Were here
Wednesday Leftovers (1)
Many people carry around two certainties: that you cannot know what it is like to be them, but that they know what it is like to be you. The fact that there are rather obvious logical difficulties with this position in no way dissuades people from holding it.
The intensity of our reactions to things changes over time; if we are not careful, we may blame the things, themselves.
When observation tells you that you are a person who loves to argue and fight, you are well served to find constructive outlets for that tendency. Otherwise, you are likely to turn all your relationships into competitions, and that rarely ends well.
At some point in your life, romance and adventure go from “things you dream about doing” to “things you have always enjoyed reading about”.
Simulated living has become an extremely popular pursuit.
We dislike morality tales, but we want everything in life to be one.
Revenge is a dish best… read about.
There is no “i” in team, but you can “at me” with it.
Sorrow is part of life; if we grow up thinking otherwise, the most important part of our education never happened.
one more one more
one more one more bathing beauty one less blasted call to duty one time two times meretricious salted caramel delicious one way street no room for turning hit the beach they're soon adjourning once we were to truth attending one more one more day pretending
{ addled }
Believe me when I say the wind Has blown away this warm regard For all that atrophies but lives Among the early daffodils That wreathe the path of discontent We walk upon until such time As welcomes every sort of thread In one large fabric warp and woof And there it is. Amalgamated perfidy That's lost among the wild grass The paths of where we meant to be So long forgotten no one knows Where they might be or ever were But words are just as good as things And images beat either one When thoughts allowed are tribal first And there we are.
danger isn’t always
danger isn't always ever isn't really you were his obsession you'd have known ideally chasms are a problem distance, just one answer he kept track for laying like a gandy dancer comfort isn't lasting nor are circumstances signs are for ignoring gotta take your chances
it was…
romantic retinopathy the shallowest of ills; it preys upon lonely and the feeblest of wills it was right there for him to take, a tantalizing prize; but it was just a fantasy, light spilled across the eyes
The Written World
She dreams within a written world Of all she could take in and be; A vision calm, cerulean Along a shore in Tuscany The written world, in which she finds Adventure, romance, and an end To all of her anxieties And scars that never really seem To mend
An Infinite Treasure Hunt
Life Is about exploring: To stop looking Is to stop living. Answers are like An infinite treasure hunt, And we are meant To keep finding