Truth.
Versus dreams.
Versus the permanence of the past as it affects my soul.
My thoughts.
My beliefs.
Why I choose to sew some of my clothes rather than being totally dependant on stores for existance.
The goals that I want to acheive...the past as it affects me now.
The realization that I have not been living the life that I should be living.
The realization that I have screwed up...but it is fixable.
Why I want a flower garden.
Why I write poetry that makes no sense, does not rhyme, but makes me feel contented...for a moment.
Why hearing of the selflessness of the women of the Bible make me feel very ashamed of myself.
The reason that I love antiques
The reason that I cannot stand men who are overly stylish and (pardon me) "pimped out"
The way sweet tea soothes my soul
The feeling of petting my bunny rabbit and him hopping around my room
How the lightbulb goes on
How looking at anatomy class slides through a microscope lets me see a world that most do not even fully realize is there
The feeling of the flute in my hands, the hot air streaming through the holes and keys, the strong vibrato and mellow notes that sets my flute singing
The changes that I earnestly want to make within myself.
The desire for perfection...knowing deep within myself what the said perfection would be...and puzzling over how to obtain the said perfection.
Truth...is masked in mystery. The truth of one situation is but lies to another soul. The best you can be does not exist. When a soul attains the best they can be, there is always one...more...inch...and after that inch, then another, and another, until we have gone miles past what we previously thought we could...
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