#wanderlostworld

𝐌𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫, 𝐎𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧

Kids walking home from school with their parents talking about their day. people riding bikes along the path with big oak trees weeping over the path. Old vintage Jeeps slowly  cruising down the road with no doors just to let the warm cleansed air breathe through the drivers hair

I wish I could take a live photograph of this moment, though no one will see the pure beauty as the way I see it, no one would hold the  purity of this moment close to their hearts the way I do.

Though, I can say, if you can; get out, go outside, breathe the fresh air, give thanks that you have the privilege to to live a place where clean fresh air is in abundance.

I wonder what I am.

When I should be weary, I am not. I stand alone through the cold, and through the pain. I should fall over, but here I am standing.

I wonder why.

When I am tired, I lay fully awake reeling in my thoughts. My mind is racing at a million miles an hour, and I can’t stop it.

Why is it racing?

When I should shed a tear, I am smiling. Sometimes, things in life are just unfair, yet I can’t bring myself to accept the reality of it.