Too Big to Comprehend

Aug 24, 2009 19:52

I find it necissary to completely clear my screen of all other writing, of all other distraction, and to start fresh, even though I know that it is still there just below the edge of the screen, hiding

I do this with EVERYTHING.  Burried, hiden just below the surface, peaking through the thin frosty ice, a shadow, visable, but unknown

I'm learning that i can't controll how i feel about people; I'm starting to learn what that fluttering in my stomach actually means.  There are those that I want to love, but can't; there are those that I wish I didn't love, but I do; and then there are those that I didn't even know that I loved; the fluttering

You don't know what you have until you have lost it.  It is only in retrospect that we relize our own flaws; mistakes; stupidity

I have cleared out the bad ones, the ones that did more harm than good, but their fallout still remains (with an unknown half-life)

I have started to end my paragraphs with no punctuation and I like how it looks and feeeeelssss.  It is as if the paragraph could grow at any moment, could sprout roots and dig deeper, down into the dark, cold, wet, earth.  A new line is better than an period any day

life, random

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