Somehow I would like to move through time without aging to only feel half the affects of time, something to heal a wounded heart and train an undisciplined mind.
I wonder to myself for a while but then to a select few how long one does grieve, will grieve, and can grieve.
I noticed that the wind is kind enough to dry tears quickly, maybe soon the winds of fortune will kiss my face.
I feel like im forcing myself in writing right now but maybe that's necessary. I've tried ignoring certain pains..they just find a way to inconvinience me more by showing up unexpected and severly untimely.
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Thoughts No one should remember.
What could i write about in a journal? I tyhink it will be a mixture of my day and musings that pop up for the day.
Godthorn
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