#naprowimo

But remember, this is where flowers grow.

You keep on breaking your own heart when you live your doubts and kill yourself with your what-ifs. So, here's the thing: People will do the breaking for you so I ask you why you don't chase kites and sunshine and free air Unburden yourself And live as if your heart was never broken, And if you can't, just think of it as cracked to let the light in And to let the poison out. So, climb mountains and rocks. What are men to either? And all three crumble No one is invincible, but some like you are adaptable-- quicksilver, when the earth crumbles around, you will always land --even if you're on your back you'll still see the sky wide open with promise and no one can stop you from reaching

In first grade, I brought my music box and baby frame from we lived in Italy to show-and-tell. The frame showed me bald like an egg, half-smiling with my length and weight written with my full name across the middle. It was something small to prove something I couldn't remember. Before I went home, I put the frame with my music box on the floor by my locker-- Then I turned and found under my shoe the shattered pieces of the frame. A sense of loss twisted my insides, like when you can't find your cell phone, with all your photos and messages you treasure A piece of your life is stolen. But a friend lends you a phone, you break up with the boy who sent you those messages and meet someone else. That was how I learned to do it, by gathering up the broken pieces and bringing them home in a paper grocery bag. When my mom said it couldn't be fixed, I believed her. When she said not to worry, I still did. She said everything was going to be OK and it was. She lifted the lid of the music box, and we heard mandolins playing once more.

sacred window is closing?