So many doors open. Yet so many closed at the same tie. They say when one door closes, two more open, but I’ve begun to doubt that. And even if two more do open, one doesn’t necessarily want to go through that door. Sometimes what was behind the first one that closed is all you really want.
The dormant opportunities that lay in wait for the next available opportunist. They encumber great stresses behind every knob but never complain. They embrace our decision and open when need be. They are taken for granted at every possible swing.
They are beautiful.
Jesse Foss
I hate doors. They always open the way I don’t expect them to. Not only that, but they always close when I don’t want them to, as if possessed by a demon. The worst part of it is, my house is absolutely full of doors.
So many doors open. Yet so many closed at the same tie. They say when one door closes, two more open, but I’ve begun to doubt that. And even if two more do open, one doesn’t necessarily want to go through that door. Sometimes what was behind the first one that closed is all you really want.
The dormant opportunities that lay in wait for the next available opportunist. They encumber great stresses behind every knob but never complain. They embrace our decision and open when need be. They are taken for granted at every possible swing.
They are beautiful.
I hate doors. They always open the way I don’t expect them to. Not only that, but they always close when I don’t want them to, as if possessed by a demon. The worst part of it is, my house is absolutely full of doors.