"we are motionless"

Space

Her hair blew gently back and forth, swaying with the the rhythm of the wind. How long had it been since she had been sitting on that bench? She could barely remember. Her hands had long gone numb with the cold and her cheeks were the color of fresh winter snow. She didn't have any particular reason to be there that day. Yet she dreaded having to leave the comforts of her own little corner. She would have to go soon, step back into the flow of time. After all, there was no one else that could take her shoes or live her life. If only she had more minutes in a day, so that she may take some more time to sit and ponder. To sway with the wind and swallow the light.

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17 January 2012 9:49:00 AM


"this time is ours"
"Here's what I think, Mr. Wind-Up Bird," said May Kasahara. "Everybody's born with some different thing at the core of their existence. And that thing, whatever it is, becomes like a heat source that runs each person from the inside. I have one too, of course. Like everybody else. But sometimes it gets out of hand. It swells or shrinks inside me, and it shakes me up. What I'd really like to do is find a way to communicate that feeling to another person. But I can't seem to do it. They just don't get it. Of course, the problem could be that I'm not explaining it very well, but I think it's because they're not listening very well. They pretend to be listening, but they're not, really. So I get worked up sometimes, and I do some crazy things."



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if i could hold this moment in my hands, i'd stop the world from moving
live a little louder, dream a little longer