Lazy from C-Z

Building up the strength, picking up the pace, turning over leaves when the wind is never afriend. Whole journeys start to make very little sense right at a certain point. The fog lits up, we falter, there amongst the brown and dingy cold. You have to respect the consequences. Only in taking accountability can one rationalise the mystique of the substandard anomaly before them, washing hands will never be able to cross over the eggshells. You have to man up on the hard parts and allow the risk of you losing it all to percolate. Either the fear or threat empowers you, or it annihilates you completely. There is no middle ground. Regardless of the right or wrong; the sensical and the irrational; what matters is you live with it. You die, and make sure you never die again, but eventually you will. But the will to live on remains.

Much can be said and much has been said about matters of my core, whether intentionally or inadvertently. Regardless of mine own opinion of myself, the fact is that not much can be further said without already digging up the carcass of yesteryears. Reaching a crossroads, something not totally alienating and, in a way, already tainted with hint of perversions from living. It is not a complaint but rather an indictment of truth. Somehow my matter of factness antagonises that with mine relationships with other people, particularly with Ani. We stand tall in between transgressions; too early to tell, but my optimism is in outstanding merits. The pain that was injected to her intraspiritual being manifests itself too often. Scars of the days before I came. An all too common story for the common man. I have no idea how to fix hers, nor do I assume that I can, we can both simply live our lives as if we were ignoring what was practically huge chunks of our lives absent one another, because if

Someone falls to pieces; someone else gets led astray. There from the mystical bonds of those united stands from behind those unbehoved; the constantly nagging, cringy, and scrupulous lot. I sit behind a small room wider than a sardine can, wholly satisfied. Ani thinks I am at work, of which I am. Everything is hitting a strange plateau. Wherever I am feels good . Pieces of notes fall down but the letter said...