thisisalladream

"As the express train passes the local
It moves by just like a paper boat
Although it weighs a million pounds
I swear it almost seems to float
And as we pass by each other
Our heads all full of bother
We can't look, we can't stop
We can't think, we can't stop
Because we're stuck in our own paths
And it's the way it always lasts
But i need something more from you"

things have a way of crumbling at my feet...

sometimes they get pieced back together with only hairline cracks as evidence, occasionally larger chunks end up missing, and ever so often the dust just gets blown away.

it happens. it's happening. this time in slow increments. one tiny piece at a time. in some sort of effort to bypass this slipping away i made a guarded attempt to establish contact.

so far, nothing.

i am glad i sent that message regardless of what you might believe, but the silence is a tad bit excruciating. all i can do is give it time, hope for the best, and navigate my way through the land minds littered about.

i do suppose that's all any of us can do in similar situations.