i often find it strange to think that people (i mostly mean friends, i guess) talk about me when i am not there. it's comforting and a little unsettling... i wish there were a way to let people know the lovely things that are said about them in private without spoiling the pleasure of secrecy or causing embarassment.
november makes me realize all the sad and lonely people that are all around me... many empty hearts and it makes me cry on the sidewalk in the rain when i see that there is no way i could fill up even a few of them.
sometimes everything hurts me and i try to be as kind as i can but then i wonder why i continue to be burdened with the cruelty of human nature. why can't i be better?
november makes me realize all the sad and lonely people that are all around me... many empty hearts and it makes me cry on the sidewalk in the rain when i see that there is no way i could fill up even a few of them.
sometimes everything hurts me and i try to be as kind as i can but then i wonder why i continue to be burdened with the cruelty of human nature. why can't i be better?
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_biblia_:
empathy's a bitch.
punt:
Seems like its broken heart city down here in the South Bay.