Forgotten times, and endings, sadden me... but I must never take vacancy for granted.
Unoccupied rooms, spaces, pages, pockets in our souls. Blankness sets our dreams into the wild; frees our minds to hunt for what could be, to gather notions of our choosing, to fill the vacancy with something. With absurd possibilities, if we wish.
Cracks in a window or a tear in a lovely picture let imagination seep through.
Though I long for good things to exist and to last...
...I secretly, sometimes guiltily, love the imperfection.
Unoccupied rooms, spaces, pages, pockets in our souls. Blankness sets our dreams into the wild; frees our minds to hunt for what could be, to gather notions of our choosing, to fill the vacancy with something. With absurd possibilities, if we wish.
Cracks in a window or a tear in a lovely picture let imagination seep through.
Though I long for good things to exist and to last...
...I secretly, sometimes guiltily, love the imperfection.
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