I don't think I've ever realized how close you could be next to someone...while being the furthest away. How could you have it all, yet realize that you'd rather have none of it at all to feel like it all? Does that make sense, or am I actually just being what would you call it, ungrateful or wanting too much?

How hard is it for me to descend and appease my hunger with her bread, and quench my thirst with her wine?

Yet how hard is it to reveal or discover the secret of her joy and pain? To only want her larger self that walks the skies...

What's wrong with giving your friend your best? If they must know the good, why not let them know the bad and ugly as well?

Label someone a friend yet you go with only with hours to kill, what about hours to live?


Rouspéteur d'excuse brutalement émoussé