"But You Don't Really Care for Music, Do Ya?" - Inspired By Lee Dewyze and Reham Kandil's Laugh

There's so much more to life than people can really see. They think they do, and they don't think twice about any of it. But they can't really see anything. They laugh at us, they watch us running in circles and they laugh. They stare and they giggle. They stare and they nudge eachother. They watch us driving ourselves crazy over things that don't exist. But they do exist. And those circles they watch us running in, that's the path that they can never see. We hear bells, we hear bells and spoons being tapped against windows, and all they can hear is themselves. We're catching raindrops on our tongues and they're staring at the sky waiting for clouds. We're chasing lightening and they're afraid it would strike them. How could that ever make sense to them?

Maybe what I believe in is just too big to put into words, and maybe I'm not even exactly sure what it is yet. All I know is, I shouldn't be anywhere else right now.

There's something so strong yet vulnerable about a human laugh. It's strong because it breaks through air, and it's vulnerable because it's out of control. I've heard so many different types of laughs. But it's the type that takes you off guard that always locks me in a daze. There's this certain type of laugh. You hear it and you think nothing of it. And then a while later, you hear it again, loud and clear, in your head this time. And it gets you thinking, was it really that loud? or did I stretch it out from it's corners and place it back in the center of my mind? And all you could do is look at the person, and wonder if a laugh that loud, could come out of that person. And soon you're thinking maybe you underestimated their strength, because that laugh would not come out of someone you thought doesn't exist on some level.

Julie farouk held my hand today, for the first time since the accident. I don't think I can stand anymore, I don't want to, until she's standing with me.