I don’t care anymore if the stride is lonesome and gloomy,
For now I have a courage so dauntless and fiery.
We think it’s just a story, but it’s an evil freaky tiny little button, pulling us all closer to our graves. Why do we feel so compelled to talk about our daily lives? When you actually don’t have an exciting event, you post absolute crap of everyday things fashioned in a way it looks exciting to fellow idiots who are looking at it.
Times we touch, times we weep. Hoping for past to speak, in the midnight streak. Though we carry memories , remember bonds, we still fail to describe relationships we own Smell we feel, presence weContinue reading