asderf

Awake the man laid on a cold bed. She had long since left his side, but he still clung to the idea that he could still feel her warmth. It’s always the last day of summer and he felt as if he had been left out in the cold with no key to get back inside. But so it went. The rumblings of a nearby train track reminded him of the emptiness in his stomach. How long had it been since his last meal? The pain would ultimately subside, only to be replaced by another type.

The feeling of longing. Of yearning to be with someone who moved four hundred miles away to chase butterflies down a winding trail. The butterflies aren’t really butterflies though.

dog

George,

do you remember before you lost your eye-sight when we would play the "Hiding Game." Well I'll tell you in case you forgot (But I doubt that, because it was one of your favorites). Everyday after school I would walk the half mile back from where the bus would drop me off. And everyday you would wait at the top of a concrete drive way in eager anticipation. Walking up the drive-way I would yell out "George, I can't say you! Where'd you go""George I can't see you, you're not even a dog"
And you would wag your tail joyously and crouch low to the concrete to try to conceal yourself.

I'm sorry for never being able to give you a true good-bye George. It was hard to leave for the summer, and part of me wished to believe that you would still be waiting when I got back. But more so, I think part of me hoped you would have taken your journey to another dog realm during my absence. Goodbye's have never been my thing, I'm much better off at running from my problems.

.

You buy her lilies because roses are too cliche. She hates lilies because they remind her of funerals. So you buy her gardenias at your mother's suggestion. For years, your house smells of gardenias. Then, one year, it smells of lilies.

it's been a while

So why do I often leave myself open for others;

They enter through a sturdy front door and always leave the house worse off than when they came. It seems that they collect bits and pieces of my soul on their journey, and then discard them in a forgotten corner on the way out. And I guess it is my true achilles heel - wanting to give more than I take. Maybe that's why I hardly ever feel like a person these days

I wish that I could drive from here to the moon just so I could look down and watch the world pass.

the old man and little boy

 Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.

shel silverstein

cryptic tones

Like no one you've ever met.

and it was the end of summer.

"Just do it for yourself" is what I've been told... but why be so greedy when you have so much to give.