No One

When I have no one to talk to, I sometimes talk.

To my blog.

In a language you probably wouldn't understand.

A Little Too Late?

It always seems like we only seem to appreciate things after they're gone, or after spending a ridiculous amount of time having it in our clutches. What a silly bear you are.

It always seems like we only seem to think about things that are pleasing to us, when all we need right now is to clear that glistening hurdle in front of us. What a funny boy you are.

It always seems like we only seem to get what was blindingly obvious, laying right in front of our eyes waiting to be discovered. What a damning piece to the puzzle you are.

It always seems so easy.

Maybe it is?

Memories

“Sometimes," he sighed, "I think the things I remember are more real than the things I see.”

- Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha