Words are all I have with which to reach and grasp the loneliness. I am in a sea of people, and no one knows me, and perhaps it is in myself that I wish not to be known. I desire not the company of fools, yet I know myself to be a fool; I cannot find the one whom I know is out there, for I wish not to venture from my seat. What is there to say? Perhaps it is mine to be alone for the whole of life, and the Lord would make of it a precious thing — but that is of little solace in the meanwhile. Hope sometimes scatters, not to be gathered by the hands that you possess, and your faith was never strong to begin with: this is where you give up, and that magic Hollywood moment happens. Or not. You know, since you never believed in it anyhow, for all that you spoke of it: the magic: these words that are all you have are no spell, after all.
reflection
8:47pm tuesday, 19th december
If I don't hear real people, I'm gonna fuck and end it all.Don't be fools motherfuckers.
reflection