Friday, April 8, 2011
This world can be suffocating at times. And at times it can be so vast and desolatingly large that I feel more minuscule than the tiniest bud in a garden of roses.
There seems to be a reoccurring theme in my travels. One way or another, the dusty, often long forgotten, ruins of the past make themselves ever present again.
It just goes to prove that distance doesn't mean anything. Luckily, I am not running away from anything, because you can never really ever run away from yourself. And that's the most honest truth you will ever know.
Luckily, I am blessed enough to have something to run towards.