the beat inside my chest is pounding, even against this misty fog. i
thought my feelings would produce an optimistic day, but i guess divine
intervention appeared through the forms of puffy white fluffiness and cold beads of
H2O. shouldn’t He be working with us? odds are against us. funny. the best feeling in the world always has that downfall; the potential opposition to happiness. it doesn’t take much to notice that a storm is brewing, filled with
drama, lies, hate and jealousy; vices block the skies like birds
retreating south for winter. perhaps we should flee from this cold too?
just leap up into the sherbet-colored sunset skies and flee away from this mess. our friends serve as meteorologists, comforting us that the darkness and obscurity will transform into sunshine and clear days. Promising me that patience is a virtue. Promising that all will work out. do they really know what’s going to happen to us or as they clueless as we are? Since when do meteorologists dictate how many fishes are in the sea as well?
No, there are no other fish this size in my sea. It's like comparing nemo to the Kraken. or when do fishermen become counselors? Their reassurance is needed, yet useless when they aren't feeling the rushed excitement felt only while flying through cloud 9. no, friends can't determine what happens to us. only we can.
thought my feelings would produce an optimistic day, but i guess divine
intervention appeared through the forms of puffy white fluffiness and cold beads of
H2O. shouldn’t He be working with us? odds are against us. funny. the best feeling in the world always has that downfall; the potential opposition to happiness. it doesn’t take much to notice that a storm is brewing, filled with
drama, lies, hate and jealousy; vices block the skies like birds
retreating south for winter. perhaps we should flee from this cold too?
just leap up into the sherbet-colored sunset skies and flee away from this mess. our friends serve as meteorologists, comforting us that the darkness and obscurity will transform into sunshine and clear days. Promising me that patience is a virtue. Promising that all will work out. do they really know what’s going to happen to us or as they clueless as we are? Since when do meteorologists dictate how many fishes are in the sea as well?
No, there are no other fish this size in my sea. It's like comparing nemo to the Kraken. or when do fishermen become counselors? Their reassurance is needed, yet useless when they aren't feeling the rushed excitement felt only while flying through cloud 9. no, friends can't determine what happens to us. only we can.
intuition is strong here yet experience renders useless, when a new road
like this begins. life is too good now, with the acceleration paced
to the flow of a high-speed coaster. we are going up slowly, with the
view gorgeous all around us. you, me and this rollar coaster of a life.
Everything seems perfect ....
but the drop is coming. i can see it;
it's just over this next bump. what goes up must come down according
to newton. are we going to fall hard or gracefully twist, turn and
spiral into something beautiful?
i personally believe the roller coaster will break. it's an aged
wooden one that has taken many riders. this time it’s different. this ride is ours. the line is huge with couples in the front thinking they already have something special, couples in the middle hoping for something special and the rest wondering where this ride will take them. i don’t know where I am on the line but I know I have an adventure ahead. what my journey will consist of i don't know but I do know that the destination is waiting for me and i must fight for it. all of a sudden we are up front in the line. the rollar coaster is looming above our heads, the conductor ready to release us on the time of our lives... come on, let's get the front row.
can't you see that a tale is being played out with you and i as the main characters? you’ve seen the plot before. we all have. a guy gets a crush. his friends question the integrity of this one. no matter how many times he claims she’s perfect; the fact is that they’ve heard it before and before, and before. it's the same shakespearian play with two teenaged lovers bound by Fate to an extraordinary future. yet shakespeare even knew that the most beautiful things come crashing down like waves against a rocky outcrop. yes, the fall hurts a lot, but the journey back up with another person is too perfect.
the storm sirens are going off. i guess the storm is upon us. i’ve got the tools tosurvive it. i’ve got the will. but it looks nasty. we can either allow each other at this specific moment to go our separate ways or embrace each other with hugs and umbrellas until the storm resides. whatever happens, optimism should reign. Because there can’t be any rainbows, without some rain.
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