Shifting, shining, through the dark, the flakes of snow fall to the ground. Waring with one another about where they will settle and compressing each other with silent screams as layer upon layer die...

Don't ask cause I have no clue.

So I am slowly stagnating, nothing seems to be good enough and I am sick of the pressure others always seem to be placing on me. Who are they to tell me what to do or where to go. I am nothing but a ticket for them a way to have more or get what they want. I am feeling so used that there is nothing left of me to use up. Why does life always feel like an ongoing play that one thing will happen that is good and then 6 horrible things fall upon you to rip and tear at your flesh.

Freedom is a gift but not all are free, we create the bands that bind us tight. Nothing is as it seems for there is nothing real here in sight. Fight with yourself or another in the end we all smother. The path that seems to sparkle there is just another particle of air. Who are we to stand so tall in the end we all fall. There is no heaven and no hell just the feelings we all feel. As the seasons spin around the years go by with no sound. We all are dying alone inside to caught up in our sense of pride. Nothing to be said and nothing to do, I am me and you are you. So let me leave like the wind and nothing is to be said of this again.

Alix