We Suffer Not From The Events In Our Lives But From Our Judgment About Them.

Jane O. Wayne // Kate Jacobs

you are eating me

your presence was never acknowledged,

at least i never really cared

you depicted me as an angel

gave me flowers and sweets

regardless of my public labels

you still choose me

but i never cared

until i learned that you were gone

the guilt i was now forced to bare

left me alone in desperate despair

you light was only shone

when i gathered in unknown

reminiscence comes in waves

wishing to reciprocate what you gave

sorry i could not care

now you are eating me

God I hate her

Please, may she be the end of me.

I don’t want it any other way

She’s almost gone.

Liberated from a house that has tortured her for two decades.

Still she remains trapped in her habits, for it has always been so easy to pin it on circumstance.

An adamant refusal to acknowledge that the issue (and solution) resides within.

This will surely be a Brutal recognition

Sea cave

I feel, so tired.

Ive always thought that j was content with my socail circle. Ive a lot of acquaintances and everyone knows my name. Adults consider me charming and im more than often invited out.

Still i have no one.

Say prehaps a book that is covered in emerald green flowers lays ahead of you. Its pages bent and the spine of it ceased. This book has been pages through a few times but its beauty is retained. You would look at this book and understand that it is not a quick read merely by its thickness. Tis only when you open the book would you realise that its writting is miniature, almost requiring a magnifying glass.

Although this novel is garenteed to interest and change your life, the minor inconveniences make you flee. Leaving the book to be engulfed by ratchet vines that suffocate it.

To make the outside of the book would be the solution to making this novel more captivating. This belief in itself opposes the notion that media presents.

I am not good enough… for i can be better, as toxic as it is, it seems to be a solution nonetheless

Pea Soupy Fog on St. Patrick's Day. 6:50 to 7:05 am. 51° F, with light rain. March 17, 2025. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT (@dkct25)