JXG

The tick tock of a clock. Is it wasted time passing or the time we spend searching to find that special someone who can turn these pain forsaken seconds into the sonnets of our beating heart? What if all life was, was the hot and heavy heat exuding from the sensual lips of another? If love was a texture what would it feel like? Could it be a fire-hot passion in a mid summer night's dream or the knee scraping concrete under February’s white dress? Does love really make life or does it remain the four letter lie that just makes living a roller coaster thrill to our unparalleled existence?

Each heartbeat is an epiphany, a manifestation, the essence or meaning of something that has been cultivated from pain. If time could stand still would it allow people to become more intuitive to their internal struggles rather than continue to utilize others motives as an escape lacking for their own dignity? And why do sometimes we get so caught up trying to please the treasured insanity of others, that we lose ourselves in the repetitive static of blinding black and white?

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Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority,
it is time to pause and reflect.
- Mark Twain -

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