floating islands

i always found that term oxymoronic. 
maybe it’s just me. but… technically, aren’t we all floating islands? 

each continent is essentially just a super, duper huge island. no? 

sitting on a body of water. floating. 
like our consciousness. 
floating until we touch something and then we drift apart again. because that’s nature. each particle moving onward, cells (like relationships) deteriorating, evolving. changing. constantly moving. dying. being born. 

last night, us two lonely particles ran into each other; by providence. this accidental encounter of two particles rubbing against each other created a spark that destroyed a might’ve been. 

and so the future died before it even really began. 

but people shouldn’t expect others to change, and it’s better to know than to not. and so we evolve; becoming history. fading into the inky black of the skies. dying stars, tracing constellations that have lost their lust(er)

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