I stay quiet most of the time. I like to listen. Words are difficult because I rarely seem to find the right ones - especially when speaking. I miss people more than I miss things. I guess that's why I hear voices and remember moments when I look at old photos. I hope for the best, especially for you and your life, even when things are gray in my own. I don't hold grudges and I never would wish harm upon another, but I know that's just me - I don't expect you to be the same as me. Why do we pass by strangers so frequently without a single thought towards them? I sit in coffee shops and practically try on the shoes of other people, wondering what it's like to be them. Where they came from, where they are going, what's going through their head, what's their favorite song, are they comfortable, are they happy? Are they cared for? Will they make it home safely? We're all busy, but are we too busy to notice & acknowledge one another? Even on days where nothing feels real, looking someone in the eyes is better than 140 characters of a meaningless string of words. || stream of consciousness || [1.16.17, 7:10pm]