Fuck.
First of all.
Fuck.
Second of all.
Fuck.
Third of all.
Fuck
Fourth of all.
What the fuck.
I hate these nights.
Learning a new language, drawing. Writing. Listening to music. Rarely talking to someone.
Alone.
I hate it.
____________
The quiet owl.
As it roams it stays quiet, afraid to disturb others.
Swiftly roaming the forest rarely stopping to find something to eat, or some other animal to converse with.
As others roam past, none stop. All leave as if it's just an obstacle to overcome.
Just another pothole in the road.
Just another twig on the ground.
Just another ladder for some superstitious fellow to find their way around.
As many past, many are skeptical.
The owls does nothing but sit.
He does not know why people do not give him a chance.
He's not going to bite.
He's not going to peck.
All he would want at most is for you to pull the thorn out of his side.
For you to save him from the one thing that is causing him pain.
It effects him and every step he makes.
There once was another owl.
One that made him fly!
He didn't roam around when he was with the other owl.
The one they call sissy.
The one that they all think of as spectacular.
The one that can bring a glow into the deepest depths of earth.
Owl met sissy.
He did really find himself at home when he was around sissy.
Too bad sissy didn't feel the same, and to sissy.....well...thankfully the owl wasn't just some little ditch in the road.
______
Reality is a bitch.
All you ever need is just a little bit of loving.
I want a girl to call my own.
Not literally.
Just some special someone I can see myself being with a for a long time.
Someone that I can watch TV with.
Someone I could draw pictures with.
Someone that I could play video games with.
Sigh.
Goodbye and goodnight, blog.
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