You hear about it, but you don't live it, and that disconnects you.
But when you live it, you really live it, and it kills a part of you.
Most tragedies have to be lived before they can be felt.
And most tragedies have to be felt before they can be understood.
What am I doing?
Inner peace feels like cherries in spring and the leaves in August. It's like scratching an itch. Like finding a perfect puddle of water.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment