2shy

has anyone figured out how to turn off the thing where you love your pet so much it slides inexorably into grief-borrowing

“For me this glass is already broken. I enjoy it; I drink out of it. It holds my water admirably, sometimes even reflecting the sun in beautiful patterns. If I should tap it, it has a lovely ring to it. But when I put this glass on the shelf and the wind knocks it over or my elbow brushes it off the table and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, ‘Of course.’ When I understand that the glass is already broken, every moment with it is precious.”

when you finally lay down and your legs feel like old wood from a tree. stay away you beaver. no

ran out of things to run to or away from. what now

Cause problems

wouldn’t it be nice if I could know peace like at least for a day