We are all pebbles. When we are born we are thrust into the air by the hand of fate, landing where we may into an ocean of time. We all create ripples, and they all fade with time. And on the journey to the bottom we may encounter other stones, just passing by at different angles or at paths similar to ours. They become lovers, friends, or just acquaintances on our journey to the depths. You'd think that life ends when we hit the bottom. But life ends only when our rise of mud settles around us, when all the stones you passed have also been covered up by the sludge the bottom offers us and by other pebbles who fall upon us, after us.
i don't know what it is but i cant stand you anymore. maybe because I've been with you for 6 weeks straight. then i got two weeks of freedom, glorious freedom, and it's hard to come back to living in this house, with you, with whom i now associate all the wonderful memories of arguments that you could never bare to lose, the days spent waiting at each corner for you as you lagged behind inconsiderately taking pictures.
my friend told me last night, in alcohol fuelled praise, that you were real. that she had incredible respect for you. and i just couldn't agree. you're real only in the sense that you let us know exactly what is on your mind without bothering if it upsets us. but you don't take the time to listen to me, to consider my opinions, because everything anyone else thinks is completely illogical and a waste of time. you can't grasp that you're views aren't one size fits all. they don't work for everyone; especially not me. You can't...
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i love that thought, its so...
real..