Thursday, March 18, 2010

♥ of all the shooting stars i knew, i never fell for anyone like you.

we do not grow absolutely, chronologically.
we grow sometimes in one dimension,
and not in another; unevenly.
we grow partially. we are relative.
we are mature in one realm, childish in another.
the past, the present, the future mingle and pull us
backward, forward, or fix us in the present.
we are made up of layers, cells, constellations.
anais nin

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