Posted by: Ben | December 30, 2011

Morning

How can I describe this coldness? Freezing eyes. Leading us on strings. Failures can be overturned but never replaced.

Nothing is risked. Nobody can hear you.

Some have allowed their natures to become different from what was intended. Life becomes sleep punctuated by efforts to regain lost time. Each time the cycle repeats, it’s slightly colder. Each time it takes slightly longer.

Nobody can hear you. Nobody can hear your whining. You have nothing to say.

It requires skill to put together a worldview. You can’t just hammer sentences together and hope to reach a kind of calm. Not if you want to be able to look at yourself in the mirror.

You have nothing to say. But that’s all right. It’s morning. You can try again later.

There was a point to this, but it got cut.

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