What is the point of it?
I tried finding these answers myself, but never once came close. Does love even exist? In these times it's really hard to know. I once knew a person who thought they were in complete love, fallen so far down that they couldn't get up. And they loved it. So I thought to myself, how could anyone love that feeling? Being held down by some unstoppable and uncontrollable force? Or is that even what it felt like at all?
To me: love looked like it felt like a ball of yarn. Yes, that's right. Yarn. Yarn being chased by a fat ass grey and black, annoying ass Tabby that doesn't know right from left. Sure my feelings on this topic seem a bit unconventional, maybe even abstract and out there; but they say exactly how I feel about love. It's bullshit, like a funeral.
Yarn being chased by a fat ass grey and black, annoying ass Tabby that doesn't know right from left
ReplyDeleteThat was quite possible the wittiest and most comedic line from any novel I've ever read, it had me sitting here laughing for a good while. I CAN RELATE TO THIS STORY, I like it already. The soundtrack is very fitting thus far as well, I'm interested to see where you go with this one. I like the title too.
:)