Finish each day and be done with it. I have done what I could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; now time to forget them as soon as i can. Does it break my heart? Of course. Every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of. I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent. I never thought about thing at all. Everything changed and that distanced, and that distance wedged itself between me and my happiness. It wasn't the world and it wasn't the bombs and burning building. It was me and my thing, the cancer of never letting go. Is ignorance bliss? I don't know, but its so painful to think. And tell me what did thinking ever do for me? To what place did i thi