it’s funny how love spelt backwards (evol) is pronounced like evil
It’s funny how those who love the hard fall the hardest
It’s funny how we say bad things happen to good people, but that’s just because good people don’t do bad things
It’s funny how one day can turn into forever or it can be forgotten
It’s funny how funny isn’t so funny all the sudden
the simplest question of all
What is it?
Life
Is it defined by the number of breaths we take?
Is it the number of days lived in the physical world?
Or by the times we’ve felt alive?
And what is a life worth living?
Essentially we are a compilation of matter and light so what do we live for?
The days that make us feel hope.
And death?
Is it when the hourglass turns out empty atop?
Is it the day we stop living or the day we stop feeling alive?
Hope?
The last of Pandora’s box.
It is ours. To help us through succumbing to life.
writing to you like this makes me feel like you’re still there. I feel you in my sleep and see you in everything I do. I have countless days where I think I see you around 3rd Ave but then I realize it’s impossible. Your looks haunt me. You are the most beautifully tragic thing that has ever happened to me and I thank the hands of fate that we know each other but I despise the cruelty of the world for keeping us apart
– late night spontaneous venting
The clock is silent
We no longer idolize it as the rhythmic sound of life
Flashes and beeps
A different way of living
Oh, how the world has changed
In the still moments the world is silent once more
The ticking of the clock has been long dissolved by the insufferable silence of this neo-lifestyle
The ticking…and the sounds of the natural, pre-industrialized world have been drowned out.
A life taken or a life granted?
In fact, a world taken.
