I'm not starting anything I cannot finish. I'm not being with you to be in another place like Mars and ask you to deal with the consequences. I am staring with my eyes wide open into the blaring sunlight. The squinting hurts, but sure as hell feels worth it. I am bothered with the guilt I have for actually having my place in life work out. I am finished being a burden, or feeling that way when it is what it is, and I know I am not. The chips may be down, but I'm not down for the count. I'm finished hiding things, I'm finished hearing songs from the past and hating them because I had attached a person to the song. I refuse to not pursue what I want. Including, and not limited to, a white pillbox hat with a small veil that covers my forehead right down to the velvety soft red cowgirl boots.
Anyhooter.
So what if I'm a touch dramatic. Big deal if I'm super dramatic, eh?
More tidbits from String Theory :
"The more beautiful the bird, the poorer the singer."
"Peacocks scream, macaws screech, Birds of Paradise croak."
Among the most interesting singers, on the other hand, are birds that are less spectacular in appearance : The Black-capped Chickadee, The Willow Thrush, and the White Throated Sparrow.
I am going to favor, my own personal inclination -
Inspiring singing over comely appearance, but there maybe a different bias.
Always recognize the nature of options before you.
My optimal survival skills:
Incorporate the themes of plain beauty,
Secret Genius,
Disguised power, and open secrets.
Hate me or love me, do it with passion.
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