Source of the Misunderstanding
Everytime I read my journal I feel inspired to write again. I remember things I haven't even written here, and probably never will write. It makes me think about life, and the consequences for living. Like Newton's second, law of equivalency, Nothing (in life) can be gained until something of equal value is lost, the pain we suffer becomes our strength. It makes me want to sigh, especially on a misty sunday like this, with Damien Rice in the background. Nothing moves, not the people, not the trees, not even the leaves, there's a reverance today that's like no other, and I'm just wondering how long it will last. "We're like blocks of stone, out of which the sculptor carves the forms of men. The blows of His chisel, which hurt us so much, are what make us perfect." - C.S. Lewis. Later space cowboy. Adieu.
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