There’s nothing tragic or pitiful about the sky. It could be just as void as our feelings, or it can be as explosive as the tremendous stars it conceals. We all love to talk about blue yonders and artistic integrity when we’re young. But then the sky falls and kicks us to the ground. All the romantic concepts in this played-out world won’t be enough to shield the amount of hurt we’re going to live with. Don’t think for a second that the world actually cares what you have to say. I don’t understand your demands either, but here I am. Throbbing and willing to hold your plastic spoon.
We do what we can to cling on to the hopeful visions of adulthood. And it doesn’t come for free. There’s always a subtext of trying, of caring, and of silent crying. Even if it’s as removed or as forbidding as our own little heavens.
A lighter shade of sad can calm my heart, I just wish you could prescribe me my medication.
-C