remind me again why we stopped writing.
I remember times when it was all we did.
and i know, I'm talking to myself again.
so many things...
we used to never run out of words to describe them.
now, we just watch. look. listen. then forget.
what happened to the days when we observed our world
and allowed it all to sink in?
now we just stare into the middle distance...
and see nothing.
remind me again why we stopped reading.
I remember times when it was all we did.
and I know, I'm still talking to myself.
so many things...
we used to never close books until we've finished them.
now we just watch. look. listen.
but nothing registers in our heads.
what happened to the days when we liked challenging
our perspective by vicariously living through literature.
now we are just passive...
lacking initiative.
if this is what it means to grow up...
...then I will forever regret that I did.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:06 PM UTC
remind me again why we stopped writing.
I remember times when it was all we did.
and i know, I'm talking to myself again.
so many things...
we used to never run out of words to describe them.
now, we just watch. look. listen. then forget.
what happened to the days when we observed our world
and allowed it all to sink in?
now we just stare into the middle distance...
and see nothing.
remind me again why we stopped reading.
I remember times when it was all we did.
and I know, I'm still talking to myself.
so many things...
we used to never close books until we've finished them.
now we just watch. look. listen.
but nothing registers in our heads.
what happened to the days when we liked challenging
our perspective by vicariously living through literature.
now we are just passive...
lacking initiative.
if this is what it means to grow up...
...then I will forever regret that I did.
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