roseadele
I dreamed antlers sprang from my head and I sat alone on a bench because the others no longer understood me. On my antlers the snow rested and a little bird rested there for a moment. It was you and while I began to ask about your day, to try and show you love and warmth, you fluttered away and took my heart with.
I don't know when I fail until I do so how I can I stop it, mid fail? Is there even a way or are we constantly falling through this world making small fails but then quickly fixing them and we only notice when we've actually failed when we simply can't fix it anymore? Is that what failing is? Not being able to make a wrong right, or realizing we can't?
We are a history, a living and breathing history that is constantly being written.
Intense. Its the look in your eyes when you have an idea. Its the feeling I have when we're running down the street together. Its the word she used to describe how we look at each other. Its how I think my feelings are. Its how I hope you are. So much. Intense.
Belief is something we're all supposed to have. Something thats supposed to make us feel connected to something bigger. Something thats supposed to help us see the light in the dark, to understand why we suffer. Belief is supposed to sustain us when we have no food, quench our thirst when we have no water. But what if we have no beliefs?
I wonder if you think about me. My paranoid mind says no but I hope its yes. I wonder if its as hard for you as it is for me. And although I want all the best for you...I'm selfish at heart.
Sometimes I sit in train stations, because I believe train stations are the best, and I look at the people passing me by and I wonder if they're really happy. And then I begin wondering what could make them sad or angry or terrified and I begin to worry if they'll be okay. Recently I've just begun looking at the people and just hoping for the best.