I've been thinking about 271204 and how unmutual all this is now. I suck.
I think I push people. Alot. Like alot more than I should. I think I push people more than I push myself. A seed of an idea always gets me obsessed. And then I just mull and mull over it.
And while something as life-muddling and emotionally-conflicting as this revelation I have is, it is but the size of a flea's vagina when compared to the worries of the countless relatives out there looking for their lost ones.
The many children waiting for news of their parents.
The thousands of homes destroyed.
The dreams of lovers perished.
The lives of minors extinguished.
The bond of families broken.
And all we can think of is a moment of silence to respect them?
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