I Would Love To Write A Mystery

Life... It's A Great And Terrible And Short And Endless Thing. None Of Us Come Out Of It Alive.

Why Do We Stop Believing In Ourselves? Why Do We Let Facts And Figures And Anything But Dreams Rule Our Lives?

You Deserve Someone Who Loves You With Every Single Beat Of His Heart, Someone Who Thinks About You Constantly, Someone Who Spends Every Minute Of Every Day Just Wondering What You’re Doing, Where You Are, Who You’re With, And If You’re Ok. You Need Someone Who Can Help You Reach Your Dreams And Protect You From Your Fears. You Need Someone Who Will Treat You With Respect, Love Every Part Of You, Especially Your Flaws. You Should Be With Someone Who Could Make You Happy, Really Happy, Dancing On Air Happy.

People Forget They Have Options. And They Forget That Those Things Really Don't Matter. They Should Concentrate On What They Have And Not What They Don't Have.

You Never Forget About Things You've Done That You Know You Shouldn't Have Done. They Hang Around Your Mind, Linger Like A Thief Casing A Joint For A Future Job. You See Them There, Dramatically Lurking Nearby In Striped Monochrome, Leaping Behind Postboxes As Soon As Your Head Whips Around To Confront Them. Or It's A Familiar Face In A Crowd That You Glimpse But Then Lose Sight Of. An Annoying Where's Wally? Forever Locked Away And Hidden In Every Thought In Your Conscience. The Bad Thing That You Did, Always There To Let You Know.