+ beautiful endeavor +
10:16 p.m. x 2005-01-24
Things aren't as light and airy as they used to be. (I say this like it ever was at one point.) Just a bit more serious, and yeah, I might be scared, but I'm still dedicated, passionate, and [above all else] happy.
Never been this long, and I don't know if it'll ever be as deep as I had once felt, but I'm not holding back. I used to keep myself tied up and nailed down, but no matter how scared I might be, I'm giving these fragile wings some room.
I owe it to myself to smile, to cry, to laugh, to live the experience I see others have and want. Even if it ends tomorrow, or if I take it to the grave.
I might get frustrated at times, often clueless, always stubborn, but I do my best. And they all might call me a fool, but they can't feel this with their plastic skin. It's warm to the touch, yet fiery underneath; it soothes in all the right places. It's cold tears on fresh pillowcases, but at the same time it's like daisies under the Spring sky. Tiny disappointments with overwhelming happiness. I'm addicted.
Let them call me what they will; the only thing foolish is not trying.