Story from 130921

writing story

published 1970-01-01 00:00

updated 1970-01-01 00:00

%date 130921 00:00

When I think of all those I know and today consider them acquaintances, if not friends, only a small subset of those are people I am content with associating with. Is it odd that most people display properties otherwise only attributed to half wits? Surely I can't be the only one to notice them. Though I will not burn bridges for the sake of fire, I cannot help but pursue thoughts of such natrue. If lonliness is the only reason for my apparent exessive amount of friends, is it truely worse than feigning emotion? Or am I afriad of other things that would be lost between words, things that cannot be conjured with thought? Does going out of my way to fix minor inconviences solve a much larger problem? To those that are content with ignorance, I have little to speak, but words still flow like rivers from the tip of my tongue; unbound and free. Is silence punishment or reward? These are the questions I have been pondering of late, questions that know no answer, none that I can think of. Should all else be forgotten, I hope at least you remember this, how to hold a pen and where to send your response, for I eagerly await one. Yours, Phillip