I want to be with you,
it is as simple,
and as complicated as that.
We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.
The task of painting the picture of life, often as it has been attempted by poets and philosophers, is nevertheless irrational. Even in the hands of the greatest artist-thinkers, pictures and miniatures of one life only — their own — have come into being, and indeed no other result is possible.
And I understand. I understand why people hold hands: I’d always thought it was about possessiveness, saying ‘This is mine’. But it’s about maintaining contact. It is about speaking without words. It is about I want you with me and don’t go.
They call me coffee cuz I grind so fine
They call me coffee I keep you up past 2 am
They call me coffee because I’m really bitter and most people don’t like me without changing some aspect of what I am