The normal amount of happiness in life, I think, is supposed to be like sunny skies, with the occasional storm clouds dampening things, but for the most part blue, and brilliant, full of light.
Sometimes, my life feels much more like a moonless night, where the only light is from the little pinpricks of stars. Sometimes it's even worse: more like a night sky in which most of the stars are drowned out by small city street lamps. It's a small city because it's not small enough to let you see the stars, nor is it large enough for one to be dazzled by city lights, just the occasional street lamp lingering there for maintenance purposes in order to keep the dead, empty streets "safer".
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Poem and Prose Scraps (That Don't Quite Fit Elsewhere)
PoetryJust pieces that didn't quite fit in any of my other books that I don't feel are significant enough to require their own book. This will probably contain a lot of edgy stuff, so... brace yourself and enter at your own risk, I suppose.
