There is a heaven because people aren’t supposed to halt each other’s company. Couples aren’t meant to break up and friends aren’t supposed to leave, but of course it happens. It happens because we are so ridiculous, and because we are so human. We either hurt one another, or we prioritize, by leaving some behind.

There is a heaven because there isn’t enough time on earth.

No time to spend time.

I loathe detachment from people you care so much about. I hate how complicated each individual situation can be, because of such different priorities.

For instance, you meet someone. You spend time with someone. You love someone. They could never know how much they mean to you as a person.

Couples break up because they no longer want to peruse any ongoing relationship with the one that they’re with.

But most of the time it takes so long for denial to dissipate. Denial being, “How much I miss that person…” cause you realize what you decided you didn’t want to work for any longer.

“How much I regret…” things you said or “Breaking up” in the first place.

Understand your futile efforts, and how much of a coward you are for not moving on.

That’s one way we hurt one another.

Our free will is the card we’ve been dealt. I understand that, and that’s why were screwed as a race of humans. We don’t know what to do with it. Free will is brutally and violently raped is its most sensitive orifices.

Beauty is when one, separates themselves from such political biased ideals, based on what “Caesar” thinks is a civilized society or whoever runs a state or government. When someone who can understand the futility “maintaining civilization”, can then look deep inside themselves and see the world for what it is. A paradise for us. A place that anyone can spend a lifetime expressing how they see it.

Essentially, we all can make a living that way. Trying to convey what we see, or how we feel literally or mentally about what’s going on.

You can make music about it, take pictures, or write stories. You could dance; you could even make clothes or a million different variations or combinations of those things.

If you go down that road just a little you’ll realize that the ones who you loved and cared for, will always be with you. They will also be with the people who hear the story that you have to tell.

I don’t know what will happen. I wish I didn’t feel like somehow we’ll end up at a wall. Sometimes I feel like as far as expressing ourselves, someone else has already gotten, “…the best, the best, the best, the best of you.”

It’s hard for me to not hate you. I hate so many. I think that you pride yourself in the knowledge of soul. You know what I’m talking about, your sensory addiction. Like Begbie from Trainspotting. I could never wish the best for you, because you don’t deserve it. That would be the penance for people like us. Us “soul rebels”.

You’re the closest to my heart because we’ve the same blood running through our veins. I can’t help but think that we were accidentally born at the same time. That somehow through time and space our souls fell through the same vortex, cosmically placing you and me in the same place. You’re just way more weird, because well you’re a woman.

The sky is perfect outside. I can’t tell what time it is if I sit down and look at it long enough. It looks like dusk, or early morning. The air is just above a warm crisp. The leaves are a lighter green. My insides are perfectly alive. I am dreaming with my eyes wide open.