Tuesday, January 22, 2013


I can't help thinking about it, and having my insides churning uneasily. The awkward squeeze in the chest where the heart may be... formed out of fear, insecurity. I don't know why I feel so scared, why does it matter anyway? It's not like I haven't been marred by such marks before. Maybe I don't want to go on a seeming sweet circle carousel again, only to find out otherwise. How sad.

How vulnerable we are, when we trust or we learn to do so. How vulnerable we are, when we love.

And the sparrow on weed screeched.

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