Sta.sh
But is it enough?
I worry that you'll make me feel that it IS better to have this, than nothing at all.
"Hey – what is it with you today?
You know you shine
you know you glow
Don't drag yourself down
Just listen
to what I have to say
If not tomorrow
you'll soon be on your way
Because, to some degree you'll be very right, this IS better than nothing.
But that is for those of us who feel they have no options.
If this is all you have to offer
I think I'll pass
If this is all you have to show for
It'll never last"
Well, I do have options, and while I continue to take the "better than nothing" although it might feel good, although it might be immediately rewarding, ultimately it limits those options.
Because better than nothing, is not better than everything.
I want everything.
So, goodbye, my love.
"'Cause I love you
but you're ruinin' my smile
You're like a sad song
that I've been playin' for a while"
~ Lyrics: Kurt Nilsen
~ Mind meanderings: all me.
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--
"Crying adds something: crying is you, plus tears. But the feeling Colin had was the horrible opposite of crying. It was you, minus something. "
-John Green, An Abundance of Katherines
--
The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies. ♥
~Ray Bradbury : Fahrenheit 451~
--
----
[...a secret was concealed.]
it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands!
it s t r e t c h e d for centuries to a diary entry's end;
where i wrote:
you make me happy when skies are grey.
--
“Good writers borrow from other writers. Great writers steal from them outright.”- Aaron Sorkin
Proudly plotting to plagiarize only the best.
Join us at Word-Smiths [link]
--
I am not like most things you’ve stolen before
--
Life is like photography,we use the negatives to develop.
--
----
[...a secret was concealed.]
it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands!
it s t r e t c h e d for centuries to a diary entry's end;
where i wrote:
you make me happy when skies are grey.
--
Be you own hero.
Be your own saviour.
--
----
[...a secret was concealed.]
it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands!
it s t r e t c h e d for centuries to a diary entry's end;
where i wrote:
you make me happy when skies are grey.