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“Her delight in the smallest things was like that of a child. There were days when she ran in the
garden, like a child of ten, after a butterfly or a dragon-fly. This courtesan who had cost more money in bouquets than would have kept a whole family in comfort, would sometimes sit on the grass for an hour, examining the simple flower whose name she bore.” ― Alexandre Dumas-fils, La Dame aux Camélias |
1700 days later, and I'm not sure where to find that part of me any longer- the urge to play a prank, wishful for a silly joke, the want to muse at life's perfection in its imperfections. I guess I still do so now, but with my mind wrapping a cruel sheet over the pure heart, trampling its innocence, muffling its ability to just appreciate the world as it is.
But oh, how the heart aches to find that space to breathe, and to be free once again.
God, would you help me through this?
that pic reminds me of the kind of pics u used to take in JC!
ReplyDeletehahah babe, it is! this was outside school
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