Too many things to do, not enough reasons to do them.
What do you want to do when you grow up?
Nothing. Nothing at all.
I want to love, and be happy.
That’s what I want to do.
Do I need class for that?
Do I need professors for that?
Death is everywhere.
Those famous and those pedestrian alike.
So much has been done, and still they died.
Nothing can stop it.
Their hairstyle didn’t stop it.
Their fashions didn’t stop it.
Their knowledge didn’t stop it.
My grandpa is dead.
All that I can hope is that he knows I love him.
Love is all that can exist.
Where he is now depends on love.
Who he is with depends on love.
I envy him.
He knows what his love has gotten him.
What will my love get me?
To go to class will please my parents, giving me love.
Yet I don’t love class.
Getting a good job would please my parents, giving me love.
Yet I don’t love jobs.
What do I love?
I love nothing. Nothing is simple.
I love simple. Love IS simple.
I give love to someone, they say it’s not enough.
They say I need to give more than love.
There is nothing more than love.
Love is all there is, love is all I have.
These are issues I deal with when my roommate is at a bar.
My friends are partying.
My neighbor’s are partying.
I’m alone, crying.
I don’t know what I will get from my love.
I envy my grandpa.
He didn’t know what he had to do, but he did it anyways.
I hope I can do the same.
Death is everywhere.
Surrounded by love.
