I'm writing this from an alcove of bed sheets and pillows. I have to be quiet. My sister us in the bed next to me. We're twins. We share a room and there are lots of posters in it. I lent her my favourite book, 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower', and I was worried she wouldn't like it, and she'd make fun of me, and I was worried she'd love it, and want to talk all about it with me, and try to be like Charlie, the main character. It's not the kind of book you talk about wih someone. So that's why
This life, how fleeting it is, is anything real in it? Is anything of significance? The faces I have seen yesterday are gone today without a single trace that we even shared those moments of interaction with one another. Where did those moments go? Saved in memory, filed and labeled in something that one can never experience as if it were now as I type, but now only as a constant tease of what could’ve been. It’s strange how the feelings of those times, given the change in life, when viewed from
I am becoming to see life as a spinning wheel. The emotions swirl around from one to another. We deal with stress in so many ways that we never realize. When you ride fast on a motorcycle you have to focus your attention on the task at hand. If you do not you will crash. And if you want to ride faster you have to focus faster. You have to speed up your thinking to handle the extra speed. Think of that for a moment. Your brain can adapt to you traveling at speeds and distances that other humans hundreds
Commensalism What is the universe without galaxies, asteroids and stars?.
What is the moon without sun?.
What is the sun without heat?
What is our earth without those above?
What is the sky without space- to stretch out?.
What is the cloud without the sky?.
What is the cloud without rain, a lack of which would drive plants insane- and us!
What is the environment without beauty?
What is spring if trees are not fruity? What
If Voice were a person What would thou say, or have said, or be saying, oh Voice, if thou wert a person? Would thy lips spring off praises or whistle like willows in a mighty rush of winds? What would thou say, oh Voice? Would thy lips be known to gossip, like the media in need of ‘Breaking News? Or like yakking idlers needing an opiate?. What would thou say, oh Voice?
Would thou speak kind words or ‘preach the gospel’, and when insults be ventured upon you,