Hasty.

What do I have to report?

The celebration is not mine.
The drama is someone else's.
The good news is not to be shared.
The frustration will soon be irrelevant.
The good karma is dissappearing with alarming regularity.


Life just keeps on moving. It makes you wonder how long it will keep moving if you just decide to stop. Everyone around you keeps moving and they rush by, but there you are. Stopped. How long does it take for someone to notice you've stopped? Maybe you've been stopped for so long that you've dug yourself a hole. A comfortable hole. Maybe it's a hole where you can tune people out, where their words mean nothing. But. Maybe there was someone who stopped with you. And maybe their words mean something. Maybe.

Maybe.