
there are moments
when i think i have mastered the art of not giving a flying fuck quite exquisitely
but
these moments always pass
"Where did you come from?! How is it that you fit so perfectly into my life?"
some fall down the slippery slope, and some dive down. some tread carefully to the bottom and back and tell their stories to the some who listen with open ears. as for the rest, who close their hearts, they will live a life pure and free of metaphorically sustained injuries, but will never know even a glimpse of the beauty that lies beneath.