I said, ‘Hey you, this is me. The idealist inside that holds your hope on a string, wound and tied like kites to all of your dreams and regrets. What a tangled mess that they’ve turned out to be. Take a breath, and ask yourself what matters.’
Days like masquerades, silent, hiding in the shadows,
stripped of their disguise leave you haunted as you scatter.
But you’re always on my mind.
You're always on my mind.
from william beckett's blog. i just had to share it. because it makes so much sense to me.
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