I’m not quite sure of how I ended up at the latter end of the stick
maybe it’s in my genes to seek out pain, because what I reach for is far beyond my fingertips.
Isn’t that what it’s all about: living beyond the mean existence: towards infinity?
Isn’t it there, in those preposterous parallel lines reaching for something better than this point of survival
isn’t it there that we meet? Doesn’t settling for the first thing that is within your touch a mute of your mind?
Couldn’t agree more… I don’t want to settle for what is there, I’d rather reach and reach and reach, and have my arm tire from the act of it all… but sometimes, I fear I will… just because sometimes being alone means missing him and sometimes it means missing her. Ugggg. Love this post.
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how can we comprehend the day to day banter of emotional lovers who require a connection…
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