Dear blog its been a while. A while to think and process, and I have found that time is precious but doesn't always give all it promises. The sugar coated fairy dust enchanted answers proposed with time aren't much more than dwellings upon original observations. To dwell and grow on what you originally felt, heard, and saw; its not so raw it makes you a seasoned speaker. Time it sands the edges off of your harsh brash feelings and gags your mouth with cheese cloth.
Who doesn't enjoy sounding distinguished and intelligent. Your taking the "higher road" friend your being the "bigger person" buddy. You've conformed to a cube, a stupid colorless 5'' x 5'' cube. Your nothing more, there is anything else to you. And what is your future, a future is for the living; for the being. Being is what you chose not to do, masking the emotions that shape your being little cube. Now I'll walk over to the drawer and place you mass with all of the other high road takers, and silent rule abiders; what a being columns of rows and rows of columns. Little emotionless, being less, smooth, gagged cubes.
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