Write to live, Live to write
What is hope? Some people think of it as an endless reservoir that supplies you with an unlimited amount of hope throughout your life. I think of it as something that is born, something that can die, and something that can be killed, too.
Where do your thoughts go When they’ve had enough of you? Where do you put them down When they become too heavy to carry around in your head? Do you place them gently in the pages of your journal, watch them tuck themselves in between the lines, lay their heads on your words, and fall asleep?
Fireflies and Fairylights 