For giving myself time.

We are all in some way the same. Any of us can be traced on parchment and placed over another and the outline will match, at some point. Keep turning the page until it fits just right. Call it coincidence, if you will.

I can hold you up against me and often the lines match up perfect.



The following is an excerpt from an old handwritten journal.

Yesterday I saw my reflection and waited for an answer. I stood there like an idiot, swaying and staring. It took a while, but what I found was strength and self-respect. The bags packed themselves and walked right out the door. My hand held tightly to all that really mattered, my own heart. All of my abandon had left the poor thing in a sad state, atrophied. But if I am patient and use it a little more each day it will regain its once youthful bounce. It will be fit for giving...forgiving. Forgiving.




(I needed the white noise as well.)


p.s. it is yours and no one can take it away.