Thursday, June 4, 2009

As I age I have come to realize that there is a fine line between optimism and masochism.

When does devotion become obsession?

Is it enough to know what might make you happy and never attain it?

Can that be consolation enough?

Just when does hope become pathetic?

When does the passage of time make patience a hindrance?

There's a poem in here somewhere.

obeedúid~
04/june/09

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