Are you myopia from your thoughts?
Non, I do not pirouette my mind; I think about the situation more than you even grasp.
No, you gyration your mind as the psychological mind.
So you want to say I am myopia from my intellect.
Then you are the one who is calumnious about my study I do.
If you are so much intellect, then why are you been behaving like the traduce,
I see your envious eyes constantly sharing to churlish folks
So that they can thwack me with the estoc,
And have the monolithic joy of pummelling.
I see your hierological wars over the people who revered.
Yet you don’t know how to stop them.
And you talk about us being turpitude to you.
The one with the words knows how to deal with you.
We abide by the tutelage which precipitates the senectitude.
You tend to scotch those things which are beneficial for you.
How come monogamy became your encumbrance of being farsighted.
So does that makes you the myopia bread of cerebral? https://discord.gg/Um3ugaywcc
I was mowing my yard, the fresh cut grass was a delicious aroma for me, a whitish sun was climbing the trees, a playful breeze sauntered by, white and red butterflies fluttered around my orange marigolds, two grey squirrels chased each other across my lawn and up and around my seemingly ancient oak tree, I often wondered about its history and what it had seen, a woodpecker was making noise somewhere, a red cardinal was gliding a low thermal, the old man down the street was walking his old and panting dog, we nodded to each other, a young boy, perhaps about 9 or 10, followed a few yards behind the old man and his dog, he cautiously came over to me, he said, "Grandpa says its an ugly world that we live in, but I've seen things today that shows how beautiful it is". he quickly walked away to catch up with the old man and his dog, I sighed a little and smiled, and thought, you're gonna be alright kid.
Some things we have only as long as they remain lost, some things are not lost only so long as they are distant.
Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost
My window of time to speak to you feels like nothing. You get up, you work, we speak in passing throughout the day about dinner, about next weeks schedule. Then you get off work and we eat dinner and watch tv. We eat and then we watch and then it’s time to go our separate ways; me to the bedroom to work and you to your computer to play your games and chat with your friends. If I text you it’s rarely a fast reply, or even less likely, an enthusiastic one. If I come to speak to you, you are engaged in something else and it’s not a good time to talk, or your attention is divided. I don’t mind not spending so much time together anymore because I don’t feel like I know how to have a conversation with you anymore, really. Sometimes in bed, if I’m still awake when you arrive, we’ll talk about tomorrow and a little about our days before the laptop comes out. I fall asleep before you do, and wake up to an empty bed and the sound of clicking through the walls. You say coffee is ready, and I ask what you