there is something so beautiful about water.
I'm still trying to shake this mood, but it's hard not to feel like all of my favorite things are being slowly taken away from me. With each presence that departs, less words are spoken aloud in the earliest hours of the morning, and less sounds are heard in the darkest hours of the night. it's a strange, almost haunting, emptiness.
some leave people behind, others have them taken away.
No matter how hard I hold on, some other forces, whether it be health, occupation, school, or just the pursuit of life, slowly pulls my favorite faces from my grasp, and all I'm left with is conversations in my dreams, or over the phone.
this could all be nonsense talking, or it could be that I'm just really lonely right now.
you wouldn't understand, or maybe you do.
strength comes from moments like these.
Normally, during these times, I leave my door wide open so that any one can walk in and take residence in my heart--it's proven to be a failure, a serious one--so i'll leave the doors closed, and get used to the vacancy.
Maybe it's time to stop trying to fill myself with just any ol' thing, and just get used to silence. The silence of stillness is, perhaps, what is needed right now.