At first you're in the sky, on cloud nine. Then you have this wonderfull falling feeling. And then you're back to earth. And things go along fine for a while apart from the usual dips and bumps.
But then after another while, for no other reason than human curiousity, you start digging. And you dig further and further. Just under the suface you find gem stones, gold and gifts. But you keep on digging and you discover a world of chaos. You dig further to try to get away from what you have seen only to come across a desperate, hopeless little man.
And he scares the pants off of you.
But you (or at least 75% of you,) have the courage and innocence to climb your way back up. Only to find that you are once again alone.
Parachuting is not as exiting as falling in love.
This is a true statement.
Signed; The Wishful Thinker.
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