I love it when strangers try to correct my worldview as if theirs is any more accurate than mine.
People's auras are what they want it to be.
Leaving something for the next generation is like writing your name on a foggy glass which disappears as the glass clears. It doesn't matter.
The truth is, Valentine's is great for those of us who watch. But there's a thorn on every rose.
Too much happened too fast, like a plot twist in a book. But unlike the reader, I can't go back a few pages to reread and understand what happened.
I am in step with time and I think that time is surprised, not me.
The library is made by its readers and the writers.
In small squares of sticky paper, we write notes to ourselves, it's a private conversation deemed irrelevant with time and isn't that our existence?
This time of the year we all look back, we try and take our pitfalls with a pinch of salt, and ponder on all the wasted time
I would like to carry on to wherever this journey of life will take me.