Does it break my heart? Of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn’t the world, it wasn’t the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don’t know, but it’s so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.

A thought of a Dreamer #7

You know what's one of the saddest sound in the world? Children playing. There is just something about sitting in your room with the windows open, listening to their joy and laughter. It's like there is some sort of magic going on outside that you can no longer join in on. Something you can no longer grasp. A secret club you can't It's like there is some sort of magic going on outside that you can no longer join in on. Something you can no longer grasp. A secret club you can't remember the password to. And you realize that you've grown up.