I keep wondering, do they care?
If they did why aren't they here?
Maybe I don't want them to care, or maybe I do.
I spend my thoughts on stupid little things.
But it's the stupid little things that keep me going.
It's the stupid little things that give me hope.
The stupid little things make sparks, sparks turn into flames, flames turn into campfires, and campfires turn into wildfires.
But all wildfires come to an end eventually.
They burn until they have no fuel left to keep burning, so they stop.
They disappear leaving only a skeleton of what was once there.
These thoughts turn into ideas, these ideas into plans, these plans into actions, and these actions into something you did.
And like wildfires it's gone.
Nothing but a memory, a skeleton of what once was.
It was, then it wasn't. Maybe I missed the point.
Maybe there is no point.
Maybe we wander endlessly until we finally find something worth living for.
Or maybe our only purpose is to live and die.
If I'm going to live I want to live with the stupid little things.
The stupid little things are what makes life interesting.
The stupid things are all
I have.
