the world is beautiful, people are beautiful, and what we've done is beautiful. he probably get tired of hearing me say these things i think as i sit with my coffee blowing smoke into the wind. hes not really in the same place. but you never did. youre the only person i know that really fathomed the idea. youre where i got it from after all. but i cant even say these things around you anymore. i distract myself, look away, recite lyrics in my head, relish in the sound of laughter nearby, and resolve to study the branches in a nearby tree. theyre beautiful. beauty of that sort is the only thing i can think of when im around you. if i dont, ill lose faith. the notion that things will be ok. its not because of you though, you and the world are beautiful. i could never doubt that, i have too much faith and care way too much about everything around me. its beautiful in it's bitter and unrelenting ways. and theyre just as important, as pertinent, as it's more agreeable features.
i dont really know how to defend the beauty of the world. the only thing i know is the way the branches in monroe park reach into the sky, the sound of quivering guitar strings, and crys of words still entwined with lingering sentiment, the brightness of the sun foiled only by the shade created by imposing buildings, the unbridled gusts of wind that make it impossible to finish a page in my book. these things couldnt be more pure and honest. more beautiful.
things dont have to be life changing or even relevant to remind me that life is beautiful. life reminds me of that by just being. even if sometimes that doesnt make any difference.
this sounds like a poem. I see alot of imagery used in this blog. I usually comment on what their blog is about, but i couldnt help but notice your interesting writing style.
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