Broken Telephone Lines
With all this writing and expression, I'd think it would be easy enough to carry every day conversation with my family, but that seems to hold more troubles than it seems. There is my brother and I. Well, no conversation there. My mom and I are working at it, and I'm glad for that. We realized we knew nothing about one another and have silently and secretly vowed to ourselves to change that. My dad and I have conversation when it pertains to me, primarily school and perhaps the bill that accompanies school. But, this is not fair to him. One night dinners with him are hardly just for the father he's been to me. Writing these words seem easier against a white screen then saying them to the faces they should be addressed to. Its not that I'm a coward, but just working silently and secretly like an elf in Santa's Shop. I know my work is going to change the hearts of others. The smallest changes to make the greatest changes in my life. A juxtaposition that I'm realizing more and more everyday: there's more for me in this life than I could anticipate.
posted by outofthevein at 12:41 AM
1 Comments:
today's anthills, regardless of size or ant population, will in years become worn down.
while the anthill wears, and ants fight to rebuild and to survive, eventually the elements (or pesticide) get the best of them, and the ants have to move on.
just remember, if you ever need a billy exterminator to talk with or get advice from.. there's one that lives right next door in the panhandle (i believe the town's called Bonifay), and he's only a phone call away.
billy friend, and fraternal brother
3:15 AM
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