I don't think anyone, anywhere is really a flower - we just gloss over with a better picture to try and hide the messed up puzzle that we all really are. Of course, this is a subjective view, I tell myself this as a kind of reassurance, and Jeff & Robert/Will talking kinda helps to reassure me that I'm not the only one who feels that there's bits of puzzle piece stuck in my heart that are poisoning the rest of me, but because they're in my heart if I tried to take them out then i'd die, so I have to live knowing that there's a bit of me that's selfish and doesn't care about the life going on outside my own little bubble, but instead just wants to numb myself watching tv and eating 'wafers' (i'm british, so I don't know what they are).Perhaps the solution is to collapse back into an unconnected pile of pieces, or maybe it's to... well, there is where I get stuck :/
Perhaps the solution is to spend all night listening to old recordings of conversations about decaptiated goats and blood wafers, and then to anonymously pour my heart out in the vain hope that someone out there feels the same, in this terrible, wonderful place.
I don't think anyone, anywhere is really a flower - we just gloss over with a better picture to try and hide the messed up puzzle that we all really are. Of course, this is a subjective view, I tell myself this as a kind of reassurance, and Jeff & Robert/Will talking kinda helps to reassure me that I'm not the only one who feels that there's bits of puzzle piece stuck in my heart that are poisoning the rest of me, but because they're in my heart if I tried to take them out then i'd die, so I have to live knowing that there's a bit of me that's selfish and doesn't care about the life going on outside my own little bubble, but instead just wants to numb myself watching tv and eating 'wafers' (i'm british, so I don't know what they are).Perhaps the solution is to collapse back into an unconnected pile of pieces, or maybe it's to... well, there is where I get stuck :/ Perhaps the solution is to spend all night listening to old recordings of conversations about decaptiated goats and blood wafers, and then to anonymously pour my heart out in the vain hope that someone out there feels the same, in this terrible, wonderful place.