lately i'm aching to fall in love with a human heart how i've fallen in love with the clouds. but the beauty and mystery seems to be sufficient, the one-sided conversations nourish my soul and the infinity in everything keeps wonder alive.
chérie, you have to learn how to say, So be it ! with every fibre of your being you must believe it, that the morals you cherish, whatever they may be -- they're yours, so hold your head up (but not high), and love. love the thunder and sadness and difference in opinion.
do writers write to remind themselves of how things could be and how they
should be, but not how they are? it's a curious blend of pessimism but also a glasse half-full. perhaps writing about it will help you understand, but sometimes i think all it really does is romanticise the emotions only in part. where does the rest go?
let's raise our teacups to a 2012 beyond anything you've imagined. dearest journal, i can't wait to see where you go & who you become.
x
