You know, I’ve always loved people. The way they look. The air they breathe. The rising of a heavy chest. The twisting of an innocent curl. The dimpling of a cheek. The love of a broken heart.
And sometimes, I’ve hated people too. The minds full of darkness. The mouths full of lies.
The love and the hate, an obsession I cannot seem to break. To observe. To write. To love.
The lost and lonely. The found and full. The hopeless and the hopers. The daring and the depleted.
I wish to understand these wild creatures. The simple but complex star beams tethered to this earth by nothing more than a heartbeat.
It is not a sad thought to accept that I never will.
Purely, an observation on the wondrously, occasionally monstrous, diversity of human kind.