how did it come to this?
can u ever hope to tell the truth without hurting someone?
words are only words.
yes that's true. but the meaning behind words bring life to them.
they can be sharpened, like knives to cut into the hearts of people.
they can soothe, yet sadly they are never used enough for that purpose.
you can say that these words are yours, not tools to hurt, but can you really believe that?
if words were private the world would be silent.
no more "once upon a times" or "happily ever afters".
but then again, life never was meant to be a fairytale.
fairytales are for children.
the book of me is of horror and suspense. surprise and maybe pretense.
now isnt that a revelation?
"surprise" is the new mantra and "pretense", the new god.
its true.
life was never straight up and seldom simple.
there.
another epiphany.
how many of these blows do we have to suffer as a species before we realise the maze that we're in?
life goes on.
as i say if life throws you bananas you eat 'em. u might choke on it, but u fuckin well eat 'em or they're gonna rot in front of you and you'll have a whole new sort of mess to clean.
here's your mess.
clean it.
