Broken Hearts Revivng Starts, Forgotten Dreams Of Old Fifteen
I certainly enjoy having my thoughts in prose and verse which I canput into song with melody. However recently, cryptic doesn't satisfy
anymore. At least not too often as like in the past, perhaps too many
people around me are adopting a mysterious wording habit that I cannot
help but see a different opinion with the way I used to write. Haha. I
guess it was young, fun, and full of emotion which I needed to take out
then.
I've got to get down to writing a proper song for us so Bry doesn't keep
singing the only song I have and like.
Now, I am picking out fragments of hope I used to habour while I was
young and great and very much fucked up. I'm still sorting things
out at current, trying to differntiate the immature and more sensible
thoughts that should remain. Looking back, I'm pretty glad that I
was fortunate enough not to have had major contact with the cops,
given that I was breaking the law in various little ways, some which
could've gotten me charged and into more trouble than I would've
expected then. God bless me. :/
That aside, I'm starting to piece together aspirations that discourage
me because of their distance. Must not be moved. >:(
I want to tell stories to children; I miss being a hero:
"Teacher Beat! Teacher Beat! Carry me, tell us story!"
Haha.
chill-
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