spero
I have found myself, yet again, torn between my head and my heart.
As much as I sometimes want to be the kind of person who can follow my feelings, I just cant deny the prudence of logic
right now, my head is winning. I'm just not sure if that is a good thing.
"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me"