BLUBBLUBLBUBLUBLUBBBbbbbbb.... Crying all the way home. Raining my own thunderstorm.
I often think people's lives are like storms. All that clash-banging and passion and fireworks bright enough to light up the night.
But it's all over, a bit of wreckage aside, the world slips calmly back into place almost as if none of it ever happened.
Which again begs the point: why?
Why is any one of us born, just to die again?
And why do we spend so much of our lives just hurting others when we could make piece and mend walls and make it BETTER??
SKIN: Nothing But
... - THEY CAME along in unison, building-sized and on their sides, past the cheering crowds. They played military music and fanfare, and because everything w...
3 hours ago