people keep walking in and out of my life. some who’s name’s i’ll never know, some who i’ll probably never see again. But somehow they’ve managed to make a difference to the choice’s i make. its almost as if.. they’re me, just as someone else, in a different parallel universe. teaching me something,
i’m not quite sure what exactly what the message is, but it’s almost as loud and clear for me to hear it.
i’m going to have to fake my way through the rest of the week,
should be easy..
“One more time? For the audience?” he says. His voice isn’t angry. It’s hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.
I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go.”










