 | | 20/11/2015 15:54
Sur le blog Amy Nelson
aim to be trees | thoughts on sorrow
The sun is on the sea but everything feels sunken like the eyes of an insomniac who putters around at night, he is looking for something he'll never find and a life without sleep is a forest grove without fruit trees. How can we sleep when we watch the news until we have red eyes? How can we go on living knowing others won't get to? How does one continue to believe the world is a beautiful place when the ugliness of others is pressed against our hearts like the sharpness of a pushpin? The answers are not simple, but I refuse to let music notes turn into unread sheets of fallen trees. I will not let concrete spill into the cracks of my heart. Instead, I...
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