Witness the half-wit aloofness of our sun; center of the world. Fully or barely aware of the fact, but aware nonetheless. Bathing in love and grattitude, however circumstancial. Lusting for glamour and fame, all the more futile. With closet regret, the wise know what they can not wish to forget; we will remain ignorant. Bound by the chord of gravity, timelessly orbiting, circling; running away aimlessly. Never to stray from the only light we know. What sorrowfull pity, the wasted hope of liberation.
-Ryan
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