cue these suns.

remember:

see i remember of course the distinct days in which we configure a thought about what we want to be when we grow up. assuming we grow up doing our somewhat expected best to get there. or somehow by some miracle winning some lottery and just grow up. high ambitions, high expectations, high disappointments, just high hopes. i love wondering how i'd end up trying. yes i'm cherishing these days. ergh it feels as if the emotion side of psychological hemispheres distracts my still. of course, i'll find it hard to keep still, but i won't have to wait for long. i never defended my intentions on thinking the way i do. but i always defended it's justified intention to be written and known. a device i presumably used that provided me with such experience of nothing i'd probably never think of. ever. it speaks like tongues to me; it speaks to me for the most part. no, i'm not sad. no i'm not depressed. is that any way to talk to a boy with an appreciation. for what? // is what anyone would try to figure out. without me saying anything. it says everything. am i right? so don't believe that inspiration has become bright for the known. but again dark for the norm. fire through anguish.

stop.