slowlygoingcrazy
Simplicity is a false accusation. Nothing in the word is simple. As the letters L, I and E all stand in this six letter word it strings true that it does indeed lie. How is one thing simple? From creation, to beauty, to humanity, to an idea as small as needing food. How is it ever simple? The intricate tracings of a butterfly's wing often entrances the eyes of nearby travelers, a wonderful dance of gold and blue and black and silver. How is something so small, delicate, beautiful and mystical simple? How is anything simple? To make it, to mold it, to shape it... nothing is ever simple.
What am I but a library of reminiscence? Something dusty, neglected, unwanted, burdened, plagued by your every thought. Sitting collecting. My very being pressed between each page, like a flower, beautiful but dead. What am I?
writing since 2012 · 2 entries · 2 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Sky showed up.
1longest streak
2days written
1.2entries / week
the words Sky reaches for
simplebeautifulwordlibraryreminiscencedustyneglectedunwantedburdenedplaguedsittingcollectingpressedpageflowerdead