I hear you dont like your cage. You tried to pretend it away. Told me you were free to play. You sang with such joy in your throat. I paused just to savor each note. And I could recite them by rote. The illusion of your openness. And your eagerness to please. Appealed so to a blue sky like me. Your voice was so sweet. I was ready to sway to your beat. I hoped you could be. You didnt mean me any harm. Your cage doesnt have an alarm. Your voice was so sweet.

Not a soul of significance. And if you can assume these things, can you also assume that I am just writing of an event? Can you read what I am about to type, without bias? If, and only if, you assume? Or will you be like the rest? Eyes and mind closed to the possibilities that seem out of reach.

I fly in the fo.

Upgrade to paid account! A motto to live by? At the end of each day we should be one step closer to what we should be. My paid account is expiring soon, my extra icons have already expired. During my debate to renew these features, I thought to myself, I never use this journal because of all the negative feelings I associate with it.

I fly in the fo.