was exceptionally enjoyable today, and in the least expected of ways. Ours is a farcical play, and the gods are tricksters at heart. Foolish are those who make mountains out of ant hills. In the end, all castles become ruins. They crumble under their own grandeur. Then nature is there to reclaims it all.
At best, we're like children building worlds, too temporal, or should I say finite, to last, out of wet sand, in a beach of our making, too close to the ocean's leveling touch. The difference however is that we, contrarily to children, take ourselves seriously, too seriously, way too seriously... So the question is why, oh why, are we perplexed when Pain finds in us the most pleasant of companies.
Be well and remember to dream the impossible -who knows, you might be in for a surprise.
Bound to catch bus 15.
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