Love is the perception of perfection beyond the protection of our projection.

Was it possible to feel nostalgic about something that had never happened to him, possible for nostalgia to be taken in by the body as a free pathogen to infect the consciousness with stray sentiments? Perhaps, in his dreams, he had traveled back in time, or even drifted into another dimension of space-time and inhabited the body, experiences, and nostalgia of another. To even envisage so allowed the trauma of those lost moments, though not his own, to draw from him a certain envy for the entity in whose memories he had basked vicariously. . .Perhaps, nostalgia was a microorganism. . .the bacterium that infected. . . Yes. . .maybe he was sick.

You're beautiful, Jenna. i'm a man and I'm afraid to admit when I'm lucky enough to look at someone as beautiful as you.

When you adapt to someone, they become a part of your routine, a part of you. And when they__e taken away, you feel a bit lost. No matter how much you think it won__ affect your life, it does.

We are souls, eternal and perfect, captains of our mystic ships: gods and goddesses of our universe. We are beautiful, we pearls of grit. We, the ember of everything. Our uniqueness IS what makes us special, and the expression of it is our gift to the rest of us. In order to feel happy and fulfilled, we must honour our own personal brand of creativity... let it out into the world... BE who we came here to BE.

Just easy. Life feels like it__ always hard. There__ never a calm way to get through it, to just breathe. Every day brings the same challenges, the same routines_the same everything. And as much as I hope the next day will be different, it__ not. It__ just the same old cycle over and over again.