Can't we just fly?

  • [17]Away. Another old entry I wrote. I rather like it. .// “You don’t have to be alone. It’s all worth reaching for, It’s all worth reaching for.” Frankly I have nothing to say.. Story of my life (take that very literally), right? I could delve into random muses to pass the time. ..No, I used to be capable of that. Not anymore. I was a rather weird kid, I realize now. I could lay around with a friend spending the night, and break into these incredible philosophical-like tangents. The only subjects I can remember anymore were the galaxies. And black holes. We knew some impressive trivia, I’ll tell you. And we could run with it. We could run far. I miss that. The night, and that part of me. The night was always there. In junior high, when I would stay up to ridiculous hours drawing in Photoshop, and waiting to speak with a friend living in Malaysia. Living on Dr. Pepper and Hershey bars. Beautiful thing, the night. And the glows. The music. Company. Not anymore.. Now the night is rushing through assignments and projects, no relief of waking up in the PM the next day, only loss of sleep and dreams. The music is still around.. but it doesn’t reach me. It fills in the background. But I live for poetry. The ethereal. Ironically, the poorly motivated state I now survive in leaves me with little “time” to look up these tiny paragraphed elixirs. Thusly moderated, they don’t grow faint.
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