Wednesday, May 6, 2015
They sit in their bedrooms, not knowing they are writing the most beautiful song you will ever hear. They go to their jobs, hiding great novels somewhere in the depths of their computers. They paint, not knowing how important their picture will be.
They do all this with no promise of any reward or any recognition, and so there are truly great, secret things, everywhere. Waiting to explode.
It is the most beautiful thing in the world.
Written by Me at 6:27 AM
Monday, May 4, 2015
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
All the most beautiful things are made in a fire.
All the most beautiful things are hit again and again.
All the most beautiful things are shaped with hard hands.
Nothing about you is ugly.
You are made of the most beautiful things.
Written by Me at 7:56 AM
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Monday, April 20, 2015
What sound could you have made for, “Look at all these lights in the sky. Isn’t it amazing?”
What sound could you have made for, “My chest hurts when you are not here.”
What sound could you have made for, “I am hurt, and I am slowly pouring out of me.”
What sound would you have made for, “I do not have a name for the feeling I have when I’m with you, but it is a feeling that I never, ever want to end. Please don’t go to sleep forever.”
Written by Me at 7:09 AM