true words seem paradoxical

2006-12-08, 1:33 a.m.

the brittle is overcome by the soft. i'll try my hardest not to cling, and be like herod who killed his sons out of suspicion. one day ill pick you a flower and i wont lie about how pretty you are.

is it a crime to be a saint?

is it rewarding to keep others at your feet?

the last of these waves are lapping at my feet, their resonant barks and screams have become tired hissing. incessant, unrellenting, allowing the sand to hug my toes. i dont want to say this stress will end, but i feel like the release lies somewhere in this unkempt room. ill find it under the stack of school papers, or maybe with the jigsaw memories of england.

reader, did i tell you what its like to live so far from home?