and yours are slurred
like syllables rolling off a tongue
they fall with a deafening silence to the floor
a silence that seems to move with your bones
swaying back and forth, uneasy and unsteady
you don't say a word
yet your movements whisper
and your actions whisper
and it feels just the same.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The world is being engulfed by an overwhelming sense of discontent.
Wasted youths, wasted lives.
I don't think any one knows where it began or where it started growing. But it looms larger and larger in every classroom across the globe, in every loveless marriage, in every angst filled song. What is is we despise? Is it life itself? I see no reason to hate the minutes I've been given or the air I breathe. And though you may swear by it, neither do you. Unlock the fear of embracing every moment. Tighten the loose screws and hinges of your existence. Life's not half bad if you don't spend all your time resenting it. Use the time you're given wisely.
Once it's gone, you can never get it back.