closed eyes fast hands
young old young old young old what’s the fucking difference we’re all lost all trying to find our way a woman of sixty four is as confused about her future as i am and we’re all just trying trying trying. muddle muddle muddle together we fall through these things as they happen when they happen becuase there’s no other way. we have our arms to support us our mind to carry us and our friends to hold us because together we fall fall fall all stars together one big tangled mess. we none of us ever make sense and i never really understood why we try to when we know feel and become altogether a whole bunch of whatever. there is no plan no way no ideal there just is.
