afterthought
Day 52
in each moment thoughts do swell pushing – pressing prose behind thin veils. grows
until at last we force ourselves; a moments ponder
this precocious dream born from so little that its birth was unforeseen.
how is life in a way different than any thought we have throughout the day
the passion the pain?
that tiny spirit from deep within that drove itself ever forward
until that thought is all we feel all we see over visions of green days or black chalky skies or old memories
it's the thoughts we see when we close our eyes thoughts born from that unforeseen given life – deliberate rushed
relieved
Been reading more work by Albert Camus and found this quote: In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. – its always nice when you find something you remember hearing and FINALLY have a person to attribute it to.
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