death of an overactive imagination
Wednesday, Sept. 24, 2003 @ 1:12 p.m.

I'm staring at the clouds until they look like clouds again. I'm onto them. There are no CareBears. There are no dieties. They fell down in the storms and drowned in the rain they'd never had to face.

I know. Mist. They still look like cities to me.

I'm tired of being lied to. All the things I thought I knew fell through. And if there's more to life than sleep and food and work and play someone let me know.

Because it's not enough.