There was a plan once. According to it, all would end up well and we'd end up together. Things had other places to go though. First there was all; then there was none. Then there were three and the three had fun.
Now, the plan has shifted and, more honestly, evaporated. Each day is a song played by ear that's simultaneously being created. The real paradox is the lack of life in our living space. My rampage was an attempt at opening some eyes, specifically my own. I know some won't approve. Go ahead and judge me while I fill my head with something different, but don't pretend you didn't judge me before.
Here's to tomorrow for still being there no matter how many times we betray him, for sticking with me through the failed plans, for not hating me when I hated him.
I have a craving to write about my big plans and my desire to do or be something new to the world. The problem is that the plans are just an idea that can't materialize and if they did, they would just mutate into something hideous.
All I know for certain is that I know nothing for certain.
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