Love Like Winter

We're alive.
Consciousness is surreal.
Perception is fatally flawed.
Good intentions are dust in the wind.
Regrets are just broken brain waves.
We're meant to be here.
Beliefs are too easily skewed.
Dreams are fragile-- and shattered everyday.
Personality is exclusive, but quickly molded.
Time is relative, but overdefined.

You can't define an emotion, you can only feel it.
Love can't be limited, nor can it ever be expressed enough for one to understand the true magnitude of it.
But it's only human to try.
So I'll keep trying.

Post Script
Sometimes trying to explain how you feel to someone is like juggling for a blind person or singing to a deaf person. It makes you feel completely seperated from a normal plane of existence when you have this thought inside of you and all you need is the right words to articulate it, but they completely evade you. Ten thousand words can come out and not one of them can do what you intend. It's like putting a puzzle together when 10 of the edge pieces are missing- you can't even get the shape right, so how can you start filling in the blanks? Just know it's simple yet hard to explain, and amazing yet excruciating at times. Sorry about today.