Dear baby,

So I won't hesitate no more, no more
it cannot wait, I'm sure.

There's no need to complicate, our time is short
this is our fate,

I'm yours.


Love, Joyce.

Lopsided

"..and it rains in your bedroom,
everything is wrong,
it rains when you're here,
it rains when you're gone.."

Dear lonely isle,

Life is unfair.

For all its symmetry, the world is almost positively made to be lopsided.

Everyday, everywhere around us we are constantly reminded of how things always are and how they are likely to remain being.
Some are born with everything, while many are born with almost nothing.
Some are lucky enough to be very aesthetically pleasing, while some aren't quite so well endowed in that area.
Many of us lament at the amazing lack of brain space we're given, even as we envy those with upper regions so vast and knowledgeable its unfathomable.
And the list goes on.
And on.

Every damn day, the world screams at us; life is unfair.
And that's just what it is.
There's not much that can be done about general and universal injustice, but like all things that seem to good to be true, the fine print always reads something like this.

So what do you do when you know that life is unfair?
You suck it up, like horrid dosages of bitter antibiotics you know you have to swallow.
Because, somehow, horridity makes you better in the end.

Except that the bitterness of the unfairness of life is supposed to make you a better person.

Today it rained heavily.
Could barely see the road on the way back.

I miss you.

It's just so unfair.

Love, Joyce.

Heaven in Hell

The solace of morning hills.
Quiet bliss quite unlike anything else I've ever felt.