There are some moments in our lives that remain imprinted in
the depths of our memories, like the vivid strokes of a master’s brush, every
colour; every trice of the painter’s anguish clearly visible on the canvas of
thought. I wrote about snowflakes, but the truth is it never does snow where I
stay. My vivid moment wasn’t
painted in colours, but loud voices and shrill thoughts.
Togetherness doesn’t always feel the greatest. The people we
choose for ourselves will do the
unpardonable, the unfathomable, the ‘shocking’. But if we did choose in our honesty,
honesty to ourselves at the very least, our choices will require us to show
courage in the darkest hours. So when tomorrow comes and the dawn breaks, we
have someone to watch the sunrise with.
Those on the faraway ship will then drown, to which we will just turn
our backs and walk the white sands - glad to be ashore, glad to be home.
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