The lack of altruism feeds our hurried footsteps. We never realize we're in such a mess. Plastic smiles are good for a glance as we lead our hurried lives in our own trance. and I really wish that someday someone will just rest their aching minds and fucking STOP. Take a breath and look the world in its eyes. Look at the once grand light, now fading, the brilliant sparkle, now dim.
We are all broken. Each and every one of us. In ways only we can know. The holes in our lives are to large. Damaged goods more numerous than the stars. But look at us. Our happy, perfect world. Still turning. Still living.
And that's the point isn't it? Frost says life goes on. It does, it will. Our fate is sealed. So let us not be morose. Fill these holes and fix your rips. Come to grips with reality. Look closer at each frame. Uncoil the mystry and open your eyes to the problems facing us. And make them better. Sitting idly in idealistic ignorance only dooms you to a false fate. Dig deep and make our tiny cracks whole once more.
It is impossible to be irreparably broken. You just have to let hope soak in. I'll help. I promise. You have to let me. In the end we will all be happy.