thinking and driving

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not much, just about my mom

and how we are dying with

every breath we take

and how this life, all the emotions

we feel, all the tears we cry,

all the words we speak will be

forgotten in the blur of death and time.

sometimes I don't know if that's

more sad

or comforting, but then I ask myself

if i want to be remembered for life

or if I want to really, really live.

and then I'm okay.

*****************************
it really is just a blur isn't it?

at the end of the day,

all we think dwindles down to love.

to animalistic, natural love and care.

at the end of the day, our thoughts

are only what we love.

on our deathbeds, what will we

be crying for?

the fact that we didn't enjoy

our young years enough,

or that they're over already?

the fact that our children

are grown up and have to

face the world you faced

alone from now on.

the fact you'll never get to

hold another hand, another baby

in your arms.

what will we be crying for?

what we lost in ourselves

or what, all that is surrounding our

bed with sunken eyes and waterfall

cheeks, we still have to lose?

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I love so many things.

if only it could be enough

to fix all the things that are

so heavy, so heavy on my head.

there was a quote once that said

"if love was enough, you'd still

be here now."

but love is not enough.

no matter how full of it you feel,

no matter how much of it looks

exactly like life, death will overtake it.

but is that a bad thing, really?

anything that lasts forever is

something to fear.

except love, right?

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

beautiful things.

when I think beautiful things,

I see sun shining through leaves,

leaving cheetah print on the forest floor.

I see a waterfall and a sunset and my

people smiling and I see death

and tears and what is life without

all the emotions?

what is life without fear?

without the fear to feel hurt

and come back and feel peaceful after?

what is life without the threat of death?

without the threat of endings

and broken hearts and dying pets?

what is life without stories and

without realizing that you are living one?

×××××××××××××××××××××××
why are people so mean?

don't they realize everything is

ending too quick to not make

people smile? to not save a butterfly

from the street or to catch fireflies

with an open palm?

they live too fast to miss seeing

the sky for one second.

I'm scared of spiders, but

ill place their quivering, multilegged

bodies in a cup and

give them back to the earth.

we all live too little to not

have mercy on eachother.

-V

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