sometimes I regress things. sometimes its little things. Things unvarying my ipod or my keys. Bobby pins and chapsticks often evanesce without warning or cause. sometimes I lose bigger things. Things the likes of my favorite first shot or my school bag. Things like the reason I came into a room, Or the memories of what I had for breakfast that morning. Sometimes I lose my train of thought, or the point I was difficult to forge or an idea. Sometimes I lose arguments. Sometimes I lose friends. I like to think on the whole the things I lose go to the same place. A field etiolated place full of hair ties and dollar caudex bracelets, And I like to think they totally wait in that respect, patiently. Wait there to be found. One day I lost my passion. It floated aside like a helium billow drifting toward the sun. only I couldnt let it go. I tag it into the sky, Past the synodic month and the stars and the milk y-way, And I followed it into the white place, And I confront a ocean of bobby pins and hair ties and chap-sticks.

I faced all those lost arguments and ideas and aspirations and promises, And I told them I was sorry. They asked me wherefore I neer came looking for them, why Id let them disappear. I safe told them the truth. I said, Some things necessitate to be lost, so new things tummy be found. I tied my passion to my wrist with a piece of twine, permit it float above my head like a guardian. It reminds me that so long as that knot holds, (I double-tied it just to be safe), It doesnt weigh how many things I lose, Ill keep what matters.If you demand to get a full essay, order it o! n our website:
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