Time for the obvious.
I do not handle goodbyes well.
There are too many awkward allusions around my mind that completely make sense to no one.
Jobs are just paying books. A way to escape.
Escapism.
What is the reality that we try so desperately to escape from? The one thing that eats away at us until we make the final escape?
Escapism is all that matters.
Can i escape into words
because images are too much like dreams of infinites that never could be
and there is nowhere to call a rooted home
with ties so easily severed and awkwardly forgotten
Sunday, June 27, 2010
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