Friday, February 15, 2008
Everyone else doesn't exist for those moments we are in each other's bosoms.
The world slows down, yet spins at the speed of light at the same time.
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Of course, that's just me and my imagination. I am, afterall, idealistic.
Ideals bring about hope.
Hope, in turn, brings about expectations.
And expectations, bring about disappointment.
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I'm hoping that tomorrow plays out the way I thought it to be.
But as I hope, a part of me dies.
Because the things that please me, are the same things that can hurt me, somehow.