Knowledge is like a sharp pain between the eyes. It throbs and hurts and makes us wince.
Awareness is a curse that will leave us naked in the worst of blizzards, shivering and begging for a break or a moment of sleep.
Growth is in the end nothing but the early stages of the final fall, necessary yet futile.
Sadness is a deep, dark lake into which we feel compelled to dive once in a while to wash off the sweat of brief happiness.
And words are just that. Words. They’ll occasionally get one drunk.
Words are just that
December 7, 2006
Schtroumpfissime
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Vince
Newyorkangel