This picture, to me, resembles waiting. A person yearning for the return of something sweet-something which they're drawn to unconditionally. As the day ends, a new one begins-and the waiting draws closer to its end with each day.
This picture, like my current state, seems to stand it sground and hold on to that which it is waiting for. Im waiting for something to pull me from secret world, my imagination. But nothing does. I wait, for that person who will awake me from my fantasies: but they dont.

And so here i sit, and wait. For the end of one fantasy and the begining of another.
And with my waiting, i hold those who wait with me and for me.

Progression is not a difficult thing. However, belief is. Latley im having trouble with belief. I belive in my words, my writing and my secrets which are yet to be revealed. But i believe in myself, more than anything.
Insecurities seem to grasp on to me so tightly, never ceasing their hold. Never loosening their obsession. But no matter what: if belief in myself rmains i can overcome insecuriies.

    I believe in trust and heart felt presence. But Love is a different matter. In my world, my secret escape, Love is a constant war. A raging battle against time, lust, envy and greed. And of course the forbidden fruits. But in reality, what is love?
What is that people truly look for in love?
Is it that significant other, seeing you for who you truly are? Or is that person understanding without hvaing to see?
Which ever it is, it's an unimaginable thing.

Everyday we see 'love'. But not many of us feel it. What we truly feel behind our facade is curiosity.
Curiousity as to how deep that love goes.

Saying those 3 words to another, one whom advances past family or friendship, is painful. Becaus ethe moment you say those words: your theirs. You jump in head first, without taking a breath: hoping that they have enough air to spare and return the gesture.

Those 3 words, to me, are forbidden. At least until i feel it is without a doubt the kind of love which clears all doubts an dreaches past my facade to really see me. Then i shall utter those words.

    Now, there are few who understand the meaning o ftheir existance-if any at all. Yet so many can breach an argument to another about the meaning of life. If one does not understand themselves ho wcan they indulg ein the thought of them comprehending life?
It cannot be done.
It is a  curiousity like no other, so instead of trying to understand. Why not develop your own meaning?
Whilst others sit there and think about why they breathe or why they cry, why their hearts beat and often brake. You can and should, do as you feel.
Let your consience take over for once. Let your senses envelope you and lead you into the unknown. I think, and maybe you can see why, that understanding cannot be given unless risks are taken. So risk it, risk falling, risk braking, risk never knowing why. And after all is through look back and say
"Thats why im here. To discover myself and help others do so to"