I often wonder about how much we really know.
Back before people sailed the world on their wooden boats and cotton sails.
They must of thought the earth was boundless and each new island was a step into infinity; a universe wrapped around our small planet.
How little we knew.
What’s the possibility that one day we could travel the universe to find ourselves back where we started.
I mean, God does have a fondness for spheres.

I don’t know anymore. Maybe I’ve always known.
How can I make such a decision without any real cause,
I know that this is enough,
but it still doesn’t and maybe never will be enough.
and I’m waiting on cause, looking for it and that’s not fair.

The fluff from my socks,
The warmth that creeps from my skin,
My slowly piecing away mind,
The quiet orchestra of mother nature,
A simpleness that's quite uncommon.

You're a collection of flaws to me,
flaws I've accepted.
You've got an outline made of crooked lines,
trying to be smooth.
Another flaw, probably the worst of them all,
your greatest time waster.
Sometimes I feel like a slowly burning match with you,
I can almost feel that it's our time to be blown out for the summer.
However, the more we repeat, the longer the match is and the sweeter the smoke.

I wonder if,
and this is just a passing thought,
but I wonder if,
I have the potential to do amazing things.

Today, my music lulls me into enjoying my studying. My window is slightly cracked opened, originally to allow my cat free passage into my room, but now it swings laughter from down the street of a mother and child and the passing songs of birds. It’s that point in the evening when the temperature is comfortable, the prime time for a walk and particularly enjoyable after stepping out of the bath. My skin feels so smooth.

I’m wearing some perfume that my sister left for me, it’s sweet, it makes me feel elegant, even in my small room of mine. I’m wearing a long sleeved shirt and my baby blue shorts and are slightly too long and it makes me feel beautiful. I'm content and warm.

My glorious plant, has just grown another leaf, it sweeps its corner of space demanding to be seen, giving the colour that my room most definitely needs. My other plant…is trying.

My cat is behind me, curled up in his doughnut, peaceful, like a child. All stretched out and oblivious, like he’s always been. I love him, far more that I should be allowed, when knowing that his time with me is so short. I’m so uninterested in moving on without him.