There are some of us who think of our own deaths. We think of them as a relief from the pain. Relieving us of the responsibility of having to witness what seems hopeless and entirely too overwhelming to every sense.
Then there is beauty that shows itself in ways that we often don’t understand until it’s too late. People pull ahead of you in the death game. People who have shown you things, helped you find things, brought light into your world in so many ways. Saved your life, made your life, sent your perspective scrambling. There are so many things that are beautiful and here today and gone tomorrow. Gone in a story about how unexpected, how is this possible. Not even by choice. By circumstance....by health, by time. It even feels hard to try to hold onto all these millions of moments - because you don’t want to miss a thing and then you do ... and then it’s lost... but maybe it’s not lost if you shared it with someone - anyone else. If there is someone there to tell you that it was too soon. That they loved you. That there was more. The mind to infinity. When we lose our artists, when we lose our friends. How do we think about them when we are alive? The universe, infinite. The emotions, a lifetime. What’s left is the weaving to fall apart. - michelletee💔🖤 .
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Peaceful Sea Creature
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