Sometimes, you know, I just words. I abyss. I impressed myself. See me out there looking for you but at the same time, static. My search is failure, helplessness, denial, helplessness. It's scary. Is necessary. It is a something irreparable. My search is destiny. My search has no rest or respite nor beneficial. My search is all you hoped to find you. I find you to validate. To which I returned. To deliver me. To do that I am married so I want to be. The two sides of a divided Ivan. The half that is about to fly, which clings to the ground. You want to be reborn, grow, mature, with whom it remains still. The yearning to do, build, with the waiting ... awaits.
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