I can't complain anymore, because complaining doesn't make sense unless you are complaining to seek advice or come to a conclusive idea for forward movement or a solution.

i know what it is you seek. because i seek it, too. here you always are, here on the same page that lays before my eyes, tired and sore from lack of the sight of you. i can't wait to take you in. to feel your smile. and your broken little hand on the back of my head. i will always love you.

and i still search for a heart of gold..

i want your flowers like babies want god's love.

dreaming of the road. the path.

it's just a simple line

i lay in my bed that is mine, beneath my multi-coloured, canvassed ceiling. i relish in my existence. i am whole. t'is a funny thing through my trials that caring too passionately has so landed me in the 'dumps'. however, these supposed dumps foster regeneration, new life, continuity.

i feel capable of loving another wholeheartedly. i know how i want to be treated and how i want to be treated. i need not seek assurance. i feel love.

i herein promise myself to never settle for less than i deserve. to never be clouded with lust. to take on loneliness, even if it really does mean being lonely. to always believe that i have so much to give, and to never compromise myself for hopes of substance that will not spoil with something that could well be considered as temporary fulfillment.
be who you are always. i have learned.

To live fully, one must be free, but to be free one must give up security. Therefore, to live one must be ready to die. How's that for a paradox?

in fact, i care about you more than i care about biology and stem cell research development, as well as ecological zones and speciation