aosid's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - a thousand hearts bleed into the night, but mine only smolders, the little ribbons of longing and fear quickly lost within the smoke that hangs in the valley air. i wonder whether it's foolish to envy them their concrete injuries: here is the wound, here is the pain, here is how it will scar. there is a certain strength to be gained from clear troubles; a body can brace itself against a telegraphed blow. me, i haven't known what's wrong for months. the despair can come at any time, from any angle, from everywhere at once, wasps and embers and hail. this empty onslaught is exhausting. 4:40 p.m. - 2013-08-27 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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