(no subject)
Under the blossoms of cherry trees I envy the bright awash color of dilating flowers, slowly deteriorating in a constant axis. It is so easy to succumb to the placid tranquility of human monotony. Undisturbed, unturned and shielded by the wings of benevolent entities. Fed by, nurtured and cared for. The raisinets that give force to the constant turning wheel of fortune.
Eventually the notion of such pretentious formality will eventually wither and die, to be replaced by more fresher cornucopia of raisins. Ever dry and ever sweet, unturned by the winds of change. Those who are left behind are forgotten, faded in the endless sea of indefinitely.
Why did I specifically picked on raisins? Because they make me sick after a couple handful, taking to a great relief of discharging and a much needed nap.
I hate raisins.
Eventually the notion of such pretentious formality will eventually wither and die, to be replaced by more fresher cornucopia of raisins. Ever dry and ever sweet, unturned by the winds of change. Those who are left behind are forgotten, faded in the endless sea of indefinitely.
Why did I specifically picked on raisins? Because they make me sick after a couple handful, taking to a great relief of discharging and a much needed nap.
I hate raisins.