thelastchancestory
The shadow was protected by a layer of dark. A shroud of coverage that could not be penetrated. The light from the watchtower. Searching. Livid. Could not pierce the dark and spy the shadow creeping closer and closer to its mark.
Decade of decadence. That's what they called it, but to holly it was no where near decadence. The lace dresses were rags, the late parties shivering in a corner of a doorway. No decadence for the good, only for the wicked and heartless.
Birth: born into the world, unwillingly and totally accepted
Death: leave the world, forgotten but celebrated
Everything in between: hell on Earth, heaven on Earth and everything else.
I get avoided sometimes. People avoid me. I avoid people. I avoid responsibilities. And trouble. And consequences. But that's the thing: you can't avoid anything. It all comes back. You have h=to face things now or later, so what's the point of avoiding? Unless it's a stranger of course. A stranger won't come back to say you avoided them on the street.
Active. What does it mean to be active? Is it only physical? Just because I don't go to the gym doesn't mean I'm not active. My brain is active. My emotions are active. More active than my body will every be. More movement that I will ever complete.