Life is about getting over it, all of the tragedies and all the victories, all traumas and triumph. The beautiful fractures and bruises, veins and jagged cracks asymmetrical maps of linear life falling forever forward. Glued together and displayed in infinite rear-view, the bumps and stitched ridges espousing a life learned as a life truly lived.
Little lady only 13. Never pretty enough but smart as can be. No friends just books. Mom overworked so no dinner just lonely. She was bullied for years: isolated in insecurity, abandonment, and unhappiness until she was 17. Senior year
One time above a little shop, An old greengrocer climbed on top, Despite himself he could not stop, The world had changed forever. The fruit of that old grocers loins, Became obsessed with notes and coins, She knew the club
The world is a race If you want to succeed, pick up your pace Keep running, focus, put in extra hours, fly solo But doesn’t this make you feel empty and hollow? Be yourself, be silly, be alive, spread joy