our cages

"I'm scared I could slowly love you to death; I can never let go. On and on we are counting the formulas. We've become the modern equation-the numbers of hope.
And I won't feed us lies here, they're not giving us much time."


There are so many things that I'm afraid of.
I'm afraid of failure, unapproval, the future.

But lately, I've been even more afraid of death.

Not my own- I feel like I have a slight bit of control over the course of my own life- but instead my father's.

It's easy to waltz through life and forget that time is fleeting. Just over a week ago today, a friend of mine's father passed away. And I know, it's irrational to let singular instance put me on edge, but at the same time we get so caught up in living that we really only take notice of death when it enters our network.

And suddenly I'm consumed by nightmares of the void that will eventually be created when my own father goes.

And it's terrifying.

And unjustified..

And instead of this fear, I should be reminded to savor every moment, every second of life with the people I love.

So I'll try. I'll try to celebrate the life we share together so that when my world gets shaken I'll know that we made the best of the time that we had.



"These metaphors for conditions and phobias we'll pretend to explain, but we know we don't know-
we can't be lead by fear, dear"