I’m constantly falling, constantly calling, and yet something, someone, keeps me hanging on, even when I have no logical reason to. Loose Love… climbing up to that pedestal that I put her on and yet I stay holding on, hasn’t my heart been broken?

I have lost and Been beaten down but the worst it yet to come but I myself will get a chance to screw you at least once.

Ephemeral happiness.

Some secrets should never come out.

A little ditty to pass the time.

On a social network, a friend adapted Rudyard Kipling’s poem “If” to "When". It was very good and made me ponder along the same lines. When you’ve done it all, to the best of your ability, and you’re at the end: What then? Heaven? Hell? Nowhere and nothing? So then, what is the purpose of living a good life?

Sometimes, I feel like I don’t know how to write anymore. I feel useless, like a piece of wrinkly paper being tossed knowing I am no longer needed.

A view of war. Artistic and somewhat romanticized into the harsh vision that one would see, having been there.

I feel like getting loose.

A brief conversation between two old lover.