As she angrily struggled to hide the stubborn tears from her father upon taking off yet again into the always awaiting chock full of remote possibilities of what may be and whys and wherefores, she was sure of one thing and one thing only - the next time as those many occurrences encore, things will never, ever be the same, ever again. In a multitude, myriad of ways.
Hits and misses,
ghosts and corpses.
Plenty of times she had made the return journey. Plenty of times she burst into flames. Plenty of times she stumbled upon observant discoveries. Plenty of times she played this foolish game. But this time, as gracefulness and gracelessness were simultaneously felt, the tears they eked out uncalled for, unforgivable. Heartfelt hope and heart, they melt.
It wasn't too bad, what a fool she'd be to start complaining.
Now, would you kindly pass me the salt shaker? It is, but time.
Hits and misses,
ghosts and corpses.
Plenty of times she had made the return journey. Plenty of times she burst into flames. Plenty of times she stumbled upon observant discoveries. Plenty of times she played this foolish game. But this time, as gracefulness and gracelessness were simultaneously felt, the tears they eked out uncalled for, unforgivable. Heartfelt hope and heart, they melt.
It wasn't too bad, what a fool she'd be to start complaining.
Now, would you kindly pass me the salt shaker? It is, but time.
Shangri-la, scream that you're happy
Shangri-la, even if you fall over on a straight path
Shangri-la, even if you fall over on a straight path
