October 26, 2011
Which hope gets to ride on the shoulders of which dream? When do I decide that I'm going to sacrifice the love of X for needing Y? Explosions in the sky are less fireworks than tragedy - burning wreckage, my parade, and wishes aren't an umbrella. What's real and who decides it? Who's turning the key that awakens my deepest fears - my secrets can be yours. If you could fly, would it be on account of rockets, feathers, or the sort of magic cape we dream of as children. If I could fly I would be nose diving as we speak.