life moves on and on and on and on...

morning to dusk to twighlight to midnight

27 June
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  • ashesinabottle01
i am adrian. i hate and i love, but mostly i watch life as its frames whir by at incredible speeds. life in conyers is like this. no matter how many tiny frames make up the movie of our life, we have to live with them all. every mistake and every blemish in our lives will play itself out alongside the joy and love that keeps us trying.

the job of the poet: take the seprate, tiny frames of life... and spread their joy, their pain, their humility, their very escence. tell the story of that frame and tell the story of how it completes the big picture. after all...
"if the world could remain within a frame
like a painting on a wall,
then i think you'd see the beauty and you'd stand staring in awe
at our still lives posed
like a bowl of oranges."