be random what is now when is then where is email who i am how it is why it is leave a note? share me, share you make me smile thank you other journals (of course I should be sleeping) (what's life got to do with it?) about me (too much to know at once) friend? (tic tic tic, toc) BE MY GUEST (BOOK) << MISSING �SOMETHING? >> the bottom line who can when i had the time the first of december (has another song) what i do < ? me # > < ? harrychapin # > < ? Random Acts of Journaling # > < ? Poetic Voices # > < ? The Write Club # > < ? Nights Awake # > < ? Fluid # > < ? Adopted # > < ? Childlike # > < ? Poets-Muse # > < ? Five Hundred # > < ? As You Wish # > temporary place holder ()))CRAYON-BOX)))> published blogmad! varb? �2015 CANDOR COMMUNICATIONS IF YOU WANT TO USE THE WORDS FOR ANY REASON TALK TO ME |
and when I'm down and when I'm gone (are we just spinning wheels?... missing references?... connections?... collaborations?... watching our time and life just pass by?... and there'll be one more child in this world to carry on)... I just keep writing and writing some more and nothing really changes except time passes and loneliness grows, so I guess something changes... but nothing too... maybe that's why I wander away and stop uploading for a while... because sooner or later, no matter how much i want to believe in the dream that the words play with, something or someone comes along and reminds me that it is all just a literary dream... and I start to feeling like a jaded used-up old fool who has no business feeling the innocence and purity and wonder... that's when the mostly dead words become more real and the candora words become foolish fantasy... but in the end, the true truth is that what is real is just what we dare to believe is real and what is fantasy is what we do not dare believe in enough to make real... it's easy to believe in depression and inadequacy and failure and weakness and being wasted cuz it doesn't take much effort to do that... it's easy to lose... no risk... it's easy to give up and fall into an apathetic self-pity... it's easy to waste away, nothing much to do but sit around and wait to die...
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I love you all for coming... for reading all these words for every click feels like more love (I know that sounds absurd) if I could only tell you... one thing more tonight I'd say I wish you could come home with me and be my friends for life |