the funny thing,
about life's times of depression is how relative everything is...
ten million people would be depressed- or disapointed for a ten million different reasons.
it's all relative.
i wish life could be about love.
not love for success and money and being above others...
just love, those unutterable moments. those times of complete fufilment of all that moves us until we burst.
but the truth is people are afraid of love. afraid of those who live through their heart.
those who constantly feel for the souls around them
those who are very sensitive to the energy others send out
i am sensitive.
and i'd like to stay that way.
and yet, i don't think i'll get to...
because people don't use their hearts
they are heartless- thoughtless ... empty of all compassion.
sometimes i even live with the idea of death -
just because it would be a quick evil in relation to the timeless hurt we feed to eachother.
the passionless drivel
i don't think i'll ever understand.
or be understood.
let my heart be burried- underneath my skin.
slowly beating away. until someday...
when it will sine with those who appreciate being able to love on every level.
being able to be compassionate -
(doesn't anyone but me know the meaning of the word?! )

living should equal loving
a meer, insignificant vowel seperates the two symbolic terms-
and yet- entire worlds spepereate them for most.