(no subject)
I'm cold and I'm tired, but I refuse to sleep yet. I don't really know why. It just feels like the right thing to do.
I wish life could always be like this. The little moments, and the feelings I get, they should last forever.
But reality strikes and papers pile. Exams sneak up behind me and those moments are over.
They end with the thought of tomorrow, or two hours from that time.
But they leave an after taste.
A warm, sweet taste of content.
It's a deep joy that never leaves, but shifts, until another moment comes.
I just finished reading The Passion by Jeanette Winterson for Lit class. It made me realize how much I love words, and how I'd love to use them as poetically as she does.
"This hole in my heart is in the shape of you. No one else can fill it. Why would I want them to?"
I wish life could always be like this. The little moments, and the feelings I get, they should last forever.
But reality strikes and papers pile. Exams sneak up behind me and those moments are over.
They end with the thought of tomorrow, or two hours from that time.
But they leave an after taste.
A warm, sweet taste of content.
It's a deep joy that never leaves, but shifts, until another moment comes.
I just finished reading The Passion by Jeanette Winterson for Lit class. It made me realize how much I love words, and how I'd love to use them as poetically as she does.
"This hole in my heart is in the shape of you. No one else can fill it. Why would I want them to?"