a bit of fun.

Passion...it is born...and though uninvited, unwelcome, unwanted, like a cancer it takes root. It festers, it bleeds, it scabs. Only to rupture and bleed anew. It grows...it thrives...until it consumes. It lives, so it must die in time.

Passion...it drives some to distraction...some to despair...some to vengence. It drives some to murder...and others to madness.

Passion is the source of hope...and the cause of despair. It is the source of life...and the cause of death.

outside there is a thick beautiful blanket of snowy whiteness that covers everything.

i wish that instead of going to work, i could go out and make snow angels, and have snowball fights, and go sledding down big hills.

just a bit of fun. thats all i want.

written @ 9:00 am on 19.01.02
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: reasons to want this.