Our words

It resembles a portion of film. What we've lost, what we lost. Acknowledged dreams, deferred. The ones who are in the middle of the being and not being.

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We're quiet. What we've been, what we're remaining with. Our tears, our giggling. In outline, the staying three hundred and sixty-five days of experience.

It was on the grounds that it passed and it was troublesome. Regardless of whether it's not for you, it's for somebody. Possibly it's harder, perhaps it will be incredible.

Like our tenacious frame of mind, we attempted our karma without saying 'dead'; simply like a lottery. Or on the other hand maybe a mariner is happy to battle with the seething waves, to rope and leave the harbor, maybe to meet another year.

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Pupa contacts the sign that he is conveying some place before cruising and trusts it will bring him karma. He gets his capacity from the desire for coming back to his friends and family. The end knows; the ship is sheltered in port, yet sends are not worked for the port.

Each time you go on another visit, a similar wish strolls on the deck of a seagull, the breeze is simple, the ocean is quiet, satisfaction and plenitude.

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