The unspoken certainty.
Do I make grey the truth because black and white is just too hard? Or is grey really the truth, now?
She said, this is how I know things should be, and tries to put everything into that box. Sure, it’s a unique box formed by her expectations and experiences. But it’s still a box.
Where are you gonna find a boxed-shaped person to put in there?
I have no boxes. I have a misty grey stretchy area of loose expectations, cause who doesn’t have any?
My own personal truth works for me.
Given abit of time, so many things, so many things, they just fall into perspective.
