Dearest stranger part two.
[Cast your minds to a simple upper side surburban home in brisbane. The windows are lit in the small hours of the morning. Look but dontr pay attention to what they are not typing.]
Dearest stranger,
I have read your words but have not been able to comprehend the meaning, it surrounds me like an aura that changes colour with no notice. How am i to respond to something i clearly do not understand. I think you have seen no mercy and have yet to find light in this world of darkness. I bare no regret for what i have done throught my past but know that because of it my fate has been decided for me. I cannot breath in this dark for i am sure i have lost or meaning of maturity and have been denied the manufacture of life because if these sickly sins. I do not force my deeds upion others as i have once befpre altough i wish to see a response other than what i have now. I am not at peice with my se;f nor has my soul pated wholely and unnoticed. We have been born from our own mistakes as is stated in so many ways it makes sense. I wish to meet those like me and you who cannot... wil not bare their lives on someone elses shoulders.
Yours truly
A strangers Pioson.
My dear,
We are not a strange to each other as you may think. We may only live two feet apart. I believe that you have sined as it is life to do so but listen to me now as i say it is with great remorse in which we find our own mistakes to be bleed away by an unwholy evil we have yet to see exist. Our lives we have lived on paths onkly chosen by us and if fate was so creul to knock of the door and slap us in the face we have yet to see the end. We chose it mainly because of our sorrows, because of our compulsive need to helop to see those within us that are like us but to remain compleated and whole strangers. To find the darkness and so called light in our world that has been born from the ashes of nothing but todays tragities. I can see the grey begin to bleed over this world like an evil as you describe but never has it seen something so inocently bared as your words through this letter. My dear we bare the same sorrows and yet have sined differently. We were made to be a life upon that of something more.. Than paradice itaelf would leak down and touch our smiling faces till we frowned and let it die within us.
Your kindly written
A Chaotic Cancer.
I love critic.
Dearest stranger,
I have read your words but have not been able to comprehend the meaning, it surrounds me like an aura that changes colour with no notice. How am i to respond to something i clearly do not understand. I think you have seen no mercy and have yet to find light in this world of darkness. I bare no regret for what i have done throught my past but know that because of it my fate has been decided for me. I cannot breath in this dark for i am sure i have lost or meaning of maturity and have been denied the manufacture of life because if these sickly sins. I do not force my deeds upion others as i have once befpre altough i wish to see a response other than what i have now. I am not at peice with my se;f nor has my soul pated wholely and unnoticed. We have been born from our own mistakes as is stated in so many ways it makes sense. I wish to meet those like me and you who cannot... wil not bare their lives on someone elses shoulders.
Yours truly
A strangers Pioson.
My dear,
We are not a strange to each other as you may think. We may only live two feet apart. I believe that you have sined as it is life to do so but listen to me now as i say it is with great remorse in which we find our own mistakes to be bleed away by an unwholy evil we have yet to see exist. Our lives we have lived on paths onkly chosen by us and if fate was so creul to knock of the door and slap us in the face we have yet to see the end. We chose it mainly because of our sorrows, because of our compulsive need to helop to see those within us that are like us but to remain compleated and whole strangers. To find the darkness and so called light in our world that has been born from the ashes of nothing but todays tragities. I can see the grey begin to bleed over this world like an evil as you describe but never has it seen something so inocently bared as your words through this letter. My dear we bare the same sorrows and yet have sined differently. We were made to be a life upon that of something more.. Than paradice itaelf would leak down and touch our smiling faces till we frowned and let it die within us.
Your kindly written
A Chaotic Cancer.
I love critic.