Ayn Rand
I don’t really have the right words for this right now, but I’m going to try anyway. My friend (that is such a cheap word, not at all the right one-the one necessary hasn’t been spoken yet in these worlds), sent this to me in the midst of a conversation. Simple. In his words, he was simply sharing his thoughts. Nothing else needed to be said. I can’t even explain how necessary it was for me to see them, to read them, to whisper them under the cover of blankets, to taste them, to see if they were real, if they could be real. I feel like we wander aimlessly a lot, to and fro, often sad and not knowing why. Then someone drops a pin in the silence and you remember what it is to breathe.
It’s late or early and I’m tired. All I know is that I needed to drag myself out of bed and try to share. Somehow I needed these words, and somehow he got them to me. So I’ll try and say thank you.
(Source: hammeredpaint)