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Wings on the floor.
Sidewalks; down under.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The things you let go - by choice
Sometimes you remain alone in the midst of all the noise and colors.
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TUOBA EM
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SDROW
We write to taste life twice,
in the moment, and in retrospection.
We write, like Proust,
to render all of it eternal,
and to persuade ourselves that it is eternal.
We write to be able to transcend our life,
to reach beyond it.
- Anais Nin
SDAER
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