There is nothing more faithful than a lonely night.
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To live one’s life shrouded by the fog of loss…
Perhaps it is by giving up hope that I can rid myself of hopelessness.
To destroy oneself into Being…
That which I remember haunts me far less than that which I have forgotten.
There are moments when I wish to be the flower in the vase: adored, transient, and chosen. Others when I long to be the flower in the field: lonely, wild and free.
But if I cannot be both then I would rather be neither.
Their loving glow resides in my heart.
