since nobody write in xanga anymore, I pretty much write for myself.

Today, somebody I knew, pretty well, passed away.  I disagree with God that it was her time to go, but we can't take that back now.  Its a shame, we abuse time because we fear what will be in the future, and that is that it comes to an end.  Honestly I don't fear death- I fear not being remembered...

Honestly what will become of me
don't like reality
It's way too clear to me
But really life is daily
We are what we don't see
Missed everything daydreaming

Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end