sky

He sat there looking at her smiling and laughing, watching her hair fall over her eyes and she setting it back behind her ear. He turned away bowed his head down and smiled himself looking back at the sky.

On all sides of us, spread out below, are little white lights and black pockets of trees. Stars in the sky, stars on the ground. It__ hard to tell where the sky ends and the earth begins. I hate to admit it, but it__ beautiful.

Take a deep breath right now_Look at the sky; it's a beautiful night, isn't it?

Speaking with her always felt like sitting on a seashore. Hearing the waves and feeling them crashing into my feet, While gazing the setting sun and the way he colours the whole sky. I never got tired of it.

Somewhere, things must be beautiful and vivid. Somewhere else, life has to be beautiful and vivid and rich. Not like this muted palette -a pale blue bedroom, washed out sunny sky, dull green yellow brown of the fields. Here, I know ever twist of every road, every blade of grass, every face in this town, and I am suffocating.

Like memories in cold decay, Transmissions echoing away, Far from the world of you and I Where oceans bleed into the sky..

You live through each memory you have hidden inside me. Through the places, we had been to and through the songs, which only we have sung and heard. Every night, I lie down and look at the sky gazing the universe in its eye. Watching the breeze and the stars carry the pieces of us and deliver it to the infinity and every time I wonder if you are doing the same somewhere.

Sometimes it seemed that one of the stars came loose from the firmament and sailed off with dizzying speed to a far corner of the night. In the dark hours before sunrise, constellations came apart and reformed and fell in burning streaks.

Only weak thinkers do not love the sky.

The morning sky is a thought of the stars.

The sky is less grand as it shuts down over less worth in the population.

I feel like I've swallowed a cloudy sky

Her gaze traveled across the western sky that was dotted with clouds and was held by the wintry looking sun, so pure, so lovely, and so impossible to touch. Sheila felt that that was how her love was - Out of reach, unquestionably warm, and as certain as the celestial ball.

Feelings came alive in Vicki for which the earth and sea had never taught her names.

He looked upwards at the brilliant blue sky. It was high noon because the sun was right overhead. The clouds danced around slowly, while drifting across the sky. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the sun glowing orange on his eyelids. It was a wonderful feeling.

Life is the night skyAll the dots of stars are happiness

Yesterday it was sun outside. The sky was blue and people were lying under blooming cherry trees in the park. It was Friday, so records were released, that people have been working on for years. Friends around me find success and level up, do fancy photo shoots and get featured on big, white, movie screens. There were parties and lovers, hand in hand, laughing perfectly loud,but I walked numbly through the park, round and round, 40 times for 4 hoursjust wanting to make it through the day.There's a weight that inhabits my chest some times. Like a lock in my throat, making it hard to breathe. A little less air got throughand the sky was so blue I couldn__ look at it because it made me sad, swelling tears in my eyes and they dripped quietly on the floor as I got on with my day. I tried to keep my focus, ticked off the to-do list, did my chores. Packed orders, wrote emails, paid bills and rewrote stories,but the panic kept growing, exploding in my chest. Tears falling on the desktick tick tickme not making a soundand some days I just don't know what to do. Where to go or who to see and I try to be gentle, soft and kind,but anxiety eats you up and I just want to be fine.This is not beautiful. This is not useful. You can not do anything with it and it tries to control you, throw you off your balance and lovely waysbut you can not let it.I cleaned up. Took myself for a walk. Tried to keep my eyes on the sky. Stayed away from the alcohol, stayed away from the destructive tools we learn to use. the smoking and the starving, the running, the madness,thinking it will help but it only feeds the fireand I don't want to hurt myself anymore.I made it through and today I woke up, lighter and proud because I'm still here. There are flowers growing outside my window. The coffee is warm, the air is pure. In a few hours I'll be on a train on my way to sing for people who invited me to come, to sing, for them. My own songs, that I created. Me__ittle me. From nowhere at all. And I have people around that I like and can laugh with, and it's spring again. It will always be spring again.And there will always be a new day.

I believe that we should all be free to believe what we want and not be condemned for it,_ I say without a thought. __ believe in a higher power and that it works within us. Whatever the name doesn't matter, it's the thought behind it that matters. It's the way we live our lives that matter and as long as I believe that there is someone in the sky there to protect us, no one here will ever break me.