I was having a discussion with my friend a while ago. We were talking about true love, about fairytales and happy endings.
The concept of happy endings is a fascinating. For one of thing, why would you want a happy ending? Is it worth the wanting and the waiting, the wishing and the wasting? After all, it is a deathwish. Endings, happy or otherwise are, well, endings. Close your eyes, count your blessings, count your burdens. They're both worth living for. Laughter and tears, hopes and fears, pathetic rhyming, it's all part of life. And which are which? Chalk lines are rigid in the sun, but just wait for the rain. See how solid they are then, and decide, whether you'd rather have the sunshine or the clouds.
I choose it all, because I can, because I don't believe in endings anymore.
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