A wedding is such a girl thing.
Reality is only a dream, based on values and well worn principles, whereas the dream goes on forever.
Existence is. . well. . what does it matter? I exist on the best terms I can. The past is now part of my future. The present is well out of hand.
I struggle between what I know is right in my own mind, and some warped truthfulness as seen through other people's eyes who have no heart, and can't see the difference anyway.
Nothing seems real anymore. Even the flames from the fire seem to beckon to me, drawing me into some great past life buried somewhere deep in my subconscious, if only I could find the key. . if only. . if only. Ever since my illness, my condition, I've been trying to find some logical way of passing my time, of justifying a means to an end.
When routine bites hard, and ambitions are low. When resentment rides high, but emotion won't grow. . . and we're changing our ways, taking different roads. Love will tear us apart.
We're changing our ways, taking different roads, and love will tear us apart again.
Id been bumming around in bands since my school days.
Some people prefer eating dessert to the main course. These people have never been really hungry.
In the Republic Plato presents a theory of personality. . . . He speaks of three faculties, the appetitive, the ambitious, and the rational. . . . The most dangerous faculty according to Plato is the appetitive for it bonds the soul to the senses and the realm of sense objects.
Remembrances last longer than present realities.