You know that feeling,

the one that overwhelms,

engulfs, like waves crashing

upon the weak sand; At the

mercy of the powerful, nebulous

liquid. The feeling that washes

over you like the smell of the

air and scent of the woods

after a momentous rain;

Fresh, new, clean, like

the newly washed sheets of

your bed at home. That feeling

Of being born again unto

small moments. Moments that

as clear and as certain

as gravity, as the sun rising

each morning. Sometimes

we want nothing more

than to be coddled, enclosed

by warmth and pinkness,

familiarity and comfort.

Others, we feel like we are

being swallowed whole; by

Fear, by confusion, overwhelmed

by everyone taking care of you.

But life is simply a beautiful,

delicate balance between

the two. Between all

paradoxes found in classical

literature. This is life.

 

There is a beautiful paradox

in the fact that humans find

beauty in chaos as well as

Order. A girl is to be

“a beautiful little fool” while

A guy is to portray the

image of masculinity.

Weak versus strong and

breakable versus hearty.