Every time you talk to someone do you escape reality?
Talking to someone is part of reality it is like standing in a line waiting for your turn, yet the line never moves.
When not talking, You lay on a bed looking up at the ceiling past takes over the present, darkening almost becoming blank like pouring black coffee in a white cup.
Life should be based on loved ones the ones who care when you die, the ones that give you life, the ones I worry about even if their safe.
Protecting my pack is what I'm destined to do. Whether it's helping a lone wolf or just protecting my own, I always provide them before myself and that's how it's supposed to be.
The next time I know it's not going to be me or my own, because I will wake up and it will be the cold hard stone of reality. And that's me and me alone.
